The King and the Flower Girl
by RoseGirl99
Summary: Ten years ago, they met. Ten years ago, life brought them together. Ten years ago, their Story started. With good memories, with painful memories. But they were together - that was all that mattered. SinbadxOC
1. Chapter 1

_I can't believe it is finally here. :D_

 _The first oneshot I published about those two was pretty succesful and I was asked in the Reviews (thanks to those ;) ) How the two, Sinbad and Layla, met- From the Moment they were introduced in kingdom of Magic, I already had this idea. And to be honest, this oneshot was a Long time on my Laptop until shad0w0wolf did the beta reading (thank you very much for this :*) and I could download it. There will also be a note at the end of this oneshot._

 _Have fun reading it. ^^_

 _I don't own Magi._

* * *

 **Chapter 1: His cute little flowergirl**

 _There are moments you want to forget; moments you want to remember as long as someone lives_

 _And there are moments, you would never forget. It was impossible - they were etched into your mind, chained by the value and meaning of them. What followed after these moments - be it good or bad, upside or downsideit didn't matter._

Sinbad could sing a song about it.

The sea was kind today - it was quiet. Soft waves swept against the island, tenderly rustling against the cliffs that surrounded the island. He enjoyed this peace and quiet.

And he wasn't the only one. The woman, who lay in his arms, her head on his chest, softly snoring, seemed to enjoy it as well. Sitting on the balcony, she snuggled in his arms, enjoying the last peace until the Mahrajan would begin. She had to attend it of course - as the king's wife, she had to duty to celebrate with the people she loved. But it didn't change the fact, that she was tired.

They took an hour of peace, secluded on the big balcony of their chamber.

Softly, he let his fingers run loosely through her hair, enjoying the softness of the brown silk. His hand wandered from her hair to her face, fondling the soft skin. Slowly, he placed a tender kiss on her forehead, on her cheek, her eyelids, the bridge of the nose and finally on her lips.

He savored those moments. More than anything.

Looking at the woman, he turned his gaze upwards, looking into the setting sun. It was the same sky as when the two of them met. The sun was setting, evening was approaching.

And the sun did the same as it did one decade ago.

They met when she was seventeen, he was eighteen. It was a beautiful day, close to Kou. He would never have thought that he meets his love, the only woman he really did love from the bottom of his heart, in the country that gave him the biggest problems.

And he never would have thought that his training at the Yambala could bring him this treasure.

Layla was a member of the Yambala, the tribe of magoi manipulation. She was the only daughter of one of the three leaders, seventeen years old and already a real beauty. After trying to find the Yambala, he found them in the lands of Kou. A wandering tribe, difficult to find. But they could help him. They could. He left his friends, his company and his duty for one year. And he came back - stronger, capable of controlling his magoi. And to his friends' surprise - and shock to add - with a woman by his side.

He began to smile at the thought. Ja'far fainted, Hinahoho grinned, Drakon slightly shook his head and Masrur mumbled a quiet "Ladykiller."

Everyone would have thought that he would ditch her. That she was as well also a woman who fell for his charms. But they mistook her.

Layla, member of the Yambala, was an independent woman. Stronger than any female he had seen. She was able to conquer two dungeons, mastered her djinns with the expected time and would kick anyone's butt if someone dared to make fun of her. Or of their relationship.

They started as friends, then as training comrades. Soon, it became love between them. And in the age of 26, she became his wife, after becoming entirely sure that she wanted to spend her life by his side. One year passed and they couldn't complain one bit about that.

He loved his Layla, his queen, his wife, his love. She was strong and independent, always ready to punch him if he dared to get on her nerves. But on the other side, she was kind and commiserative - she didn't care for status and treated everyone equally.

And why was he so sure of this?

Because he knew it right from the start. From the first time they met.

* * *

"I see..." The older man in front of him put a finger on his chin. The hands of the purple haired teenager trembled slightly, feeling the exhaustion and trouble he had to take to find this place. To find these people. He hoped that it was worth it.

And that he wasn't sent away right that instant.

"So you did come here all this way to find us, because you want to learn magoi manipulation?"

The young man nodded rapidly. "Yes, that's my-"

The man held his hand up high, Sinbad became quiet. He gulped when he looked into the face of the man in front of him. "You have problems with your magoi and you heard that we could help you. Is that correct?"

He nodded, keeping quiet this time.

A deep sigh escaped the old man's lips. "Are you the one that conquered the first dungeon? Are you the one who stared this wave of djinn users?"

This time, he only moved his head timidly and shyly.

"You don't need to be scared, I just want to know." He crossed his arms in front of his chest, titling his head. Seconds passed and Sinbad would have preferred it if he would know this man's name. But he didn't introduce himself, just took Sinbad into his tent and brought him to sit down.

He was creepy. His green eyes were full of wisdom and courage, gleaming with independence and self-consciousness. His hair had already started to become grey, once having a dark blonde shade. His body was torn, muscles showed itselves under his shirt. Sinbad knew that he would never have this stature.

This man would always be one step ahead of him.

One last sigh. "From my side, I have no complains about it if you stay here."

Sinbad blinked.

"I have no complaints if you stay here for your training. I will teach you the art of magoi manipulation."

Sinbad blinked once again.

"You can stay here and feelat home. I'm hoping you can be a help for us just like we will be a help for you."

Sinbad blinked one last time. Until then, a huge grin spread out on his face, his eyes glimmering and shining like the sky. "Really? Thank-"

"Be quiet." The man put his fingers on his temples, silencing the young man in front of him. "I have a headache. If you keep talking, it will only become worse."

Sinbad quiet down once again.

A deep, shuddering breath escaped his mouth. "Well then, I guess I should introduce myself." The man with the green eyes put a hand on his chest, right above his heart. "My name is Akhdir, I'm one of the three leaders of the Yambala. I will be your teacher."

To say he was scared was an understatement.

He was terrified.

"Rise, Sinbad." He got up on his legs, standing tall and intimidating, his green eyes never leaving the golden ones of the man. Suddenly, he felt like a little boy compared to the man in front of him.

Slightly, he nodded and followed his lead. He stood up, looking into the green eyes. A small smile appeared on the older's lips.

"Well then, if you stay here now, I have to introduce you to someone." He started walking out of the tent, Sinbad followed his new teacher and master. He opened the tent's opening, the sun striking into his eyes, forcing him to close the irises for a couple of seconds.

"Don't act like this. Come."

He blinked several times, until he became used to this light and started to follow the older man. He gulped, feeling the people's stare at his face. But strangely, they weren't offensive. He knew that. It was just curiosity.

It made it better, but only for a moment.

Then he had to face reality. This man would be a cruel teacher. Probably worse than anything he faced before.

He gulped once again.

"Ah, there she is."

Akhdir stopped in his motion, his face forward. Sinbad followed his motion, slowly looking at his backside. Suddenly, the old man turned around, a calm smile on his face. "Come on, let me introduce you."

He motioned him forward. Sinbad nodded, stepping to come up beside the man, looking into the direction the Akhdir was motioning. His eyes could see a peaceful scenery. Children running and playing around, screaming in joy and laughing resonating from the tents. The sun was shining on them. He watched the children, feeling his heart swelling.

This was a picture you wouldn't see very often. And he loved it.

"Layla."

His eyes perked up, noticing a moving figure. Flowers were braided in her hair, down her strands, a crown on her head. A flower crown. Brown silk falling in soft waves down her spine, slightly glimmering in soft waves.

Suddenly, the girl turned around, looking in their direction.

He met many beautiful women over the course of his life. He couldn't even count them. Of course, there were some young girls who would stand out. But even outstanding was a too small word for her.

She was more than outstanding. He couldn't find a proper description of her.

He gulped, when confusion settled down in her eyes, but a smile spread on her lips. Slowly, she rose up, stopping the girl who sat behind her. The one who was responsible for the flowers in her hair. The young woman, not older than he was, bent down to the girl, stroking the girl's hair and smiled softly at her. The pout disappeared and a happy nod followed. She smiled, leaving her behind.

"Father." The young woman appeared in front of him, smiling at the tall man. The flowers were blooming, harmonizing with the brown hair, like silk flowing down her body. The tension was rising, when he looked into the girl's eyes.

Actually, in this situation, he was definitely out of character. He wouldn't have wanted to imagine how the others would have looked at him, when they would have witnessed this moment. But the man was terrifying. Nearly 2 meters tall, with muscles that he could never achieve and an aura that gave you the feeling of pure threat.

This girl had the exactly same eyes.

"Layla." Akdhir nodded at his daughter, until he laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I want you to meet someone."

The girl titled her head.

"This is Sinbad." The purple haired man tensed immediately, his heartbeat stopping for one moment. "He is a traveller, who searched us in order to solve the problem of his magoi. I agreed to help him and become his teacher."

"Father? You? A Teacher?"

She was pretty honest.

"Layla, dearest." His smile became dangerous. "I taught you as well, didn't I?"

She rolled her eyes, a playful smile on her face. "Oh father, don't take it so seriously." She titled her head once again, but this time, to the other side. Suddenly, she looked at him, gentleness dominating her features. "So you want to learn the art of magoi manipulation?"

He gulped, feeling the presence of her father next to him. He knew that Adhir would probably crush his bones if he says something inappropriate. "Yes, I want that."

"That's cool." Instead of standing in front of her father, she moved to stand in front of him. "It is always great to meet someone who wants to learn this style of fighting." Her green eyes were shining brightly, nearly a spark in the pool of green. "I'm Layla." She offered him her hand, still a smile on her face. "It's nice to meet you."

He felt at ease - she didn't seem to look as scary as her father. Slowly, he didn't dare to do the same thing that he has done before to all the women, but instead, he just took it. Feeling the softness and grace of her hand.

Damn be that man who took his chance away.

His aura became more dangerous and Sinbad quickly overthought his thoughts. No, he didn't want to risk his life for this.

"It's a pleasure-"

Suddenly, a crash. Something cut him off, the girlish crying being heard, a boyish giggle next to the noise. In one second, her smile froze, a dangerous glimmering becoming remarkable in her face.

"He didn't..."

She let go of his hand, the warmth still lingering on his skin. Layla, the girl with the flower crown in her brown silk, turned around, looking at the sight in front of her. Her hands were at her hips, her feet standing apart.

Suddenly, he felt a tapping on his shoulder. Adhir bent down to his level, whispering something in his ear.

"Don't try to mess with her."

Sinbad halted, stopped every motion, stopped breathing. He rapidly nodded. "Yes, sir."

The leader nodded once. "For now, I leave you in my daughter's care. I will come back, when I've told the other two about my decision."

The merchant moved his head.

Layla's father napped, leaving him behind.

Golden eyes turned to the scenery in front of him, a drop of sweat forming on his forehead.

The boy lay on the ground, blood dripping from an injury on his head. He became unconscious and Sinbad could nearly see the boy's soul leaving his body. Layla stood in front of him, her left hand on her hip, her right hand formed into a fist.

"Renka, how many times did I tell you to stop harassing Hosoya?" The girl, seemingly named Hosoya, clutched the legs of the young woman. "I swear, man, if you dare to bully her once again, you will meet my wrath in all its glory."

He didn't respond, just gurgling some sounds. His eyes were closed, the children cheering on their hero.

"Thank you, Layla."

They've gotten closer. She bent down to her knees, ruffling the hair of the bullied girl and nudged her forehead. "Stop crying. A woman has to stay strong, don't be underestimated and bullied." She raised her hand, waiting for the reply. On the girl's face, a grin spread out and she high-fived her, giggling happily.

"Thank you, big sis. I love you."

The brown silk fell over shoulder. "Thank you, Hosoyo. I'm looking forward to your flower crowns, okay?"

"Okay, thank you."

She rose, standing on her two feet. She left the bunch of children, waving to them, until she stood in front of him once again. The flowers were shining in her hair. A smile on her lips, she suddenly put her hands on his shoulders, turning him around in one motion, moving him forward. "Come on, I will show you around."

It happened too fast to realize. He looked left and right, feeling her soft hands on his shoulders, her warmth radiating him. "What?"

"Too slow, Sinbad." Her laugh resonated in his ears, tenderly caressing him. He already loved that laugh.

And he would probably never be able to change it.

* * *

The scent of flowers crept into his nose, filling his nostrils. A small moan escaped the woman's mouth, his wife squinting, until moving her head from his chest, her voice groggy and full of sleep. "What..."

"Seems like you are finally awake." His hand caught her strands of hair, feeling the softness between his fingers. His other hand slowly massaged her waist.

Silence erupted, interrupted by a loud and wide yawn. Instead of answering to his words, she nestled in his arms once again, making herself small. "Just five more minutes."

He couldn't suppress the light chuckle that escaped his lips. "Layla, you should get up soon..."

"Just five more minutes, Sinbad." She turned in his arms, so that she could look into his face, under her eyelashes.

She was trying to do that move...

Closing her eyes, snuggling into his chest, her voice became quiet. "I want to enjoy this. We don't have that much time for ourselves." She looked at him, with closed eyes. "During the festival, we won't have the opportunity to spend time together." A soft sigh escaped her lips. "Sometimes, I wish we could go back to this one year you've spent at the Yambala. We had all the time we've wanted during in this year."

They both loved to remember this time. The training took nearly all his power away, but after six months, he was assured that she was waiting for him. Peace and quiet was one of the most present things in this time, letting them cool down and stopping them to think about all the bad things they had to endure in this year, in those twelve months.

His heart pained, when he remembered her eyes - shock, sadness, wrath, fear.

Sinbad's arms around his love tightened.

"Let's hope that we have some time together tonight." He kissed her temple, her forehead, until leaning his forehead against hers. His breath caressed her face, he could smell the scent of flowers. Her natural scent was a mixture between flowers, dust and fire. He loved that scent.

Somehow, minutes passed, filled with quietness and sincerity. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, softly drumming against his ribs. Suddenly, a soft giggle resonated trough his ears. Surprised, he lifted his gaze. "What is so funny?"

"Sorry." She put a hand on her mouth. "But I've just remembered the moment when you looked at me with those fearful eyes. As if I would slice your throat immediately." From one second to the next, he could hear a full burst of laughter out of her mouth. Tears appeared from the corner of her eyes. "I remember your face when father looked at you." The sound became louder. "You were looking like a sheep that is surrounded by a wolf. You were so cute to watch back then."

Golden eyes looked at her in confusion, until a smirk spread on his lips. His hands disappeared from her body and appeared on her sides. "Layla..."

She halted, when she looked at him in pure shock. Only a second later, she burst out in laughter once again, her hands trying to stop him. "Sinbad, no, no, no, please! Stop it!" Her laughter became louder and louder.

But he didn't. He brought her to continue her laughing. A grin spread on his lips, when his arms wrapped around her stomach. "My cute little lady..."

A punch on his arm followed, he slightly flinched. "Sinbad, don't you dare to call me like that-"

"My cute little flowergirl."

Her face became red with fury and anger and she quickly turned to him, standing up and grabbing his collar. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead, running down his face. Her smile was sweet, beautiful. "My dearest consort."

She used the word consort.

Oh-oh...

"How many times did I have to tell you that you should stop calling me this name, dammit?!" She shook him by his collar. "I hate this nick name, you know that!"

Sinbad called her once like that when they were in the beginning of their relationship. She wore a flower crown on her head and he couldn't find any other nick name for her. So he called her that.

Even though she hated this, he loved to call her that name.

His cute little flowergirl.

* * *

Did you like it? I hope it was understandable that Sinbad didn't make the casual Lady killer moves, since her father was Standing next to him. I hope the reaction was appropriate.

So, my question is: are you interested in more oneshots? If you are, then write a Review, a pm or a letter. Even though I would be curious how you would do that. :D

If there is interest, I can already make you suggestions for the _third_ chapter. I leave it in your choice - the idea with the most votes win. ^^ The suggestions I have for the third one are:

1\. Sinbad vs Layla (You decide the outcome)

2\. Sinbad Returns with Layla, Meeting Ja'far and the others

3\. Layla's memories of her mother and the tragedy behind her

Those are the choices I leave you. If you are interested in this oneshot series, text me and I will do my best. ^^ The second one is probably coming soon (I hope so...)

Until next time. ^^


	2. Chapter 2

I've changed the title and the description since this isn't a lonely (poor Thing) oneshot anymore, but a series. So I thought it would fit better if I changed it.

It seems like I piqued the interest with my first oneshot. Thanks for the favourites and the three Reviews, it made me super happy. ^^

To be honest, I'm super excited about making this oneshot series. I'm already on the third oneshot (the Meeting between Layla and Ja'far etc, hehee) and I'm rather curious what you think about the second one. It's because I'm rather unsure if this turned out okay or if this is absolutely crazy. I hope it did turn out okay - and if it didn't, I hope the next will be okay.

But I wanted to cover this Scene since I had some Inspiration during the time I wrote this (but I don't know from where) and I hope some of you will like it. If you are surprised by this whole scenery, go back to my first oneshot "A Lucky Man" and you will know why I Chose this Scene. Or at least I hope so. :P :D

There is another notice at the end and I wish you much fun.

Thanks to shad0ww0w0lf for beta reading this chapter. :*

I don't own magi. But I own my own Fantasy stuff. :D (shameless advertisment :D)

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Welcome**

"Where? Where is he? Where the hell is he? We need him now." Ja'far's annoyed and exhausted whisper echoed through the hallways. He was pacing from one side to the other, staying in front of one room. He pushed his hands into his hair and began to scratch. "Where is he? Damn it, where is he?!"

A scream interrupted him, immediately looking to the door. His heart was racing as fast as it ever did and he couldn't tell if it was that healthy for him. But he couldn't change it – this scream made his fear grow even bigger and when the next one came right after that, he began to walk even faster from one side to the other.

 _"My queen, please, you have to push!"_

 _"It hurts, can't you see that?! Oh damn it!"_

 _"My queen, push!"_

 _"I know, you don't have to tell me that!"_

Although it was inappropriate, he had to sigh. God bless the woman who was behind those doors, stubborn as ever and even in this moment still signed to do what she wanted. He shook his head and started to pace around again. "Where is he?" He became impatient, he couldn't wait.

The scream made him suffer. Where the hell was this good-for-nothing king who wasn't even present while his wife went into labor, giving birth to Sindria's throne heir? It made his blood boil and he had the urge to draw his claws into something.

"Ja'far." With turning around his body, he looked into the face of Yamuraiha, looking apologetic. He knitted his eyebrows. "Could you contact king Sinbad?"

"Yes." She nodded clearly, grabbing her staff tighter. "He is on his way here, but it would take too much time to create a magic circle. He will arrive in a couple of hours."

"Great." His voice was filled with sarcasm. "It's too bad that the prince or princess of Sindria will already be born then and she already wanted to kill me. If she finds out that Sinbad won't be present until the child is born, she will go absolutely crazy."

"Then we shouldn't tell her-"

 _"Ja'far!"_

Oh great.

"Oh may the sea bless me with enough strength to escape out of this room alive." He clasped his hands together, and looked at the magician. "Please gather the other six generals. We should be there at least until the king is arrives to give her our support."

She nodded quickly, turning around and going through the corridors. They both knew that the other six were gathered in a room outside this hallway to avoid hearing the screams of their queen.

The white haired vizier looked at the door until he opened it slowly, getting into the room. He could hear the exhausted coughing of his king's wife, saw the midwives, which were going through the room, preparing everything for the arrival of Sindria's throne heir. His eyes went to the queen, drenched in sweat and heavily breathing. His heart became heavier at her sight and when she looked into his direction, her green eyes swollen and widened, his fear increased. Her beautiful green eyes, which were admired by the servants and loved by her husband, were covered with fear and despair.

She pressed her lips together, releasing a heavy breath, until she looked at him again. "Ja'far…where is he? Where's Sinbad?" Her face was contorted, the pain written on her features. "Please…where is he?"

"My queen, please, you have to push!" The hand of the reigner clutched even tighter around necklace, the eight-pointed star shining lightly. The counsellor knew that she kept one of her two metal vessels by her side, so that she may have at least one person that she could count on.

Her scream erupted once again and he felt a hand on his shoulder. A midwife, a young woman in her early twenties, looked at him entreatingly. "Please, I don't have the right to speak like this, but please leave this room. If the king won't arrive soon, she will panic." She bowed in front of him. "Please, leave this room until the labor comes to an end."

Speechless, without any words, he looked at the young woman, and his gaze switched to the queen. Her face was twisted in pain, her breath was flat and the grip around the only thing that kept her sane became more tighten.

"Of course." He nodded, getting out of the room. He closed the door and when he turned his body, he was greeted by the faces of the other seven generals. Worry and solicitousness was written on their faces. Even Masrur looked a little bit on edge, although he rarely showed emotion.

"Ja'far, how is the queen doing?"

"She is doing well, but it seems we have to wait until the child is born." The vizir looked with tired eyes to the door, more and more screaming erupting.

 _"Your majesty, please, you have to push!"_

 _"Your majesty, please!"_

 _"Where is Sinbad?! Where the hell is my husband?!"_ They could hear the quiet weeping from behind the doors. _"If he isn't here, I can't do this. This pain-"_

 _"My queen, please."_ Even the midwives started to become desperate. How could they talk to a woman, who wanted to wait for her husband's arrival?

 _"Your majesty, the pain will be gone if you push now. It will be gone and you will hold your child in your arms. Please!"_

The generals silently gulped, sweat drops on their faces. They looked at the door.

Until something unexpected happened.

Hinahoho, the tallest of them, stepped forward and knocked softly on the door. Concern was written all over his face. "My queen, can you hear me?"

Despite the screams, coughing and heavy panting, the voice of their king's wife echoed through the door into the hallway. _"Hinahoho...? What is it...?"_

"Please, try to bear the pain just for this little while."

The surprise was written over all their faces.

"If you have to keep bearing and enduring this pain for maybe a couple of minutes, you will be rewarded with the greatest gift the world has to offer." Silence. "You will hold your own child in your arms."

 _"My queen, please-"_

 _"Be silent! I want to hear him!"_

"To hold your child in your arms is probably the most beautiful thing in the world. This is the one of the few things I really know, but if you hold your child in your arm, all the pain and worry will be washed away and the only thing you will be filled with will be happiness. So please, even if King Sinbad isn't here, be aware of the fact, that we are standing behind the door and will be waiting delighted to see the heir to Sindria."

Ja'far didn't know what happened in that moment, but it seems like the words of the Imuuchak seemed to trigger something.

"Hinahoho's right, Queen Layla." Yamuraiha stepped forward as well. "We are here, waiting for the prince. Please, we are here for you. We're helping you. Keep going."

"Queen Layla, you're the strongest woman I know, so you will bear this pain. We are here and wait here." Sharrkan.

"We are waiting for you." Pisti.

"Try to keep going." Drakon.

"You are strong, Queen Layla. You can do it." Sasan.

"Layla, you are strong." Masrur.

"Greet Sin with a smile on your face." Ja'far himself.

They didn't know how much time passed. It felt like eternities, like hours, but only a few seconds passed.

 _"Thank you."_

The waiting was nearly unbearable. They waited in front of the door, could hear the screams and the cursing. They wouldn't have thought that their king's wife, who was in general known as a gentle and heart-warming woman, could use so many foul words in a row.

But it was worth it.

Ja'far went from one point to another, her voice in all their ears.

Suddenly, there was silence. Silence, no voices, no screaming.

"Why..."

"Why is it so quiet?"

A scream erupted. Their hearts sunk.

A huge sigh escaped their lungs. The scream of a child echoed through the room.

Slowly, the door opened and one of the midwives looked at them, slightly bowing. "Lady Yamuraiha, could you come in for a moment? We want to know if everything is alright."

"Of course." The magician nodded quickly, and followed the midwife as fast as she can into the room. The door was closed once again, leaving the other seven behind.

"What do you think is happening now...?"

"They will check if everything is alright. I'm sure that everything is alright." The answer to Pisti's question was answered calmly. Hinahoho sighed deeply. "Queen Layla is a strong woman. I'm sure that everything is alright."

"Honestly said, that was very unexpected from you, Hinahoho." Drakon crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I wouldn't have thought that you were the first one to speak. I'd actually expected Ja'far to respond to the queen's words."

The vizir looked at the dragon in awe.

"I know how the queen felt and thought. After all, I have many children as well and I know how bad it hurts. Rurumu also had to endure much pain during childbirth." When the name of his late wife passed over his lips, a small smile came upon his face. "But she told me, that everything was worth it, when she held our newborn child in her arms. Every mother feels this so I was assured that Layla will feel the same, when she looks into the face of her newborn baby."

The others looked at him in admiration.

The door opened again and Yamuraiha looked at them, tears in her eyes. "You can come in."

That didn't have to be repeated.

The crying of the child was still present, but it was a lot calmer than before. It was slightly squirming in its mother arms. The young woman looked exhausted, sweat on her forehead and her face pale. But happiness and relief was written over her features, a tired smile on her face, tears flooding down her cheeks. She buried her face on her child's head, her lips pressed against its forehead. "My child..." Her sobs of relief echoed through the room, taking everyone's breath.

The young woman looked up, brushing her tears away, when she looked at the seven warriors in happiness and joy. "Come closer and say hello to the heir of Sindria." Her smile was brighter than the setting sun, that shone through the balcony into the room. Soon, the crying of the baby came to an end and it lay in its mother's arms, eyes closed and the little hands formed to fists.

Soon, the seven of them looked at the resting child. They just looked at the newborn baby, their voices struck. They couldn't speak any words.

"What's wrong?" Exhaustion was painted on their queen's face. "Cat got your tongues?" She caressed the face of her child tenderly. "Come here and say hello."

Hinahoho was the first one, Drakon followed. Yamuraiha already was by her side, Pisti sitting on the bed. Sharrkan went forward, Sasan, Masrur and Ja'far as the last one.

Her smile was wider than any horizon, brighter than the sun. "Say hello to Sinbad's and my son." She kissed the forehead of the child once again, letting him open his eyes to reveal golden irises.

"Say hello to Prince Erol, future king of Sindria."

* * *

He would never have thought that he would use one of his djinns as a transport method.

But he couldn't help it. If he was flying, he would be way faster than if he were to travel by ship. He knew that he had to hurry.

Maybe if he had the smallest luck on the world, he could witness his child open its eyes to the world.

A small sigh escaped his lips. But that hope wasn't very big. Actually, it was far away.

But hope dies last, right?

Right?

"Uh." The king of Sindria became even faster, faster as he was ever before. His eyes looked to the black sea, the night sky above him covered with glittering stars. The moon was filled completely, its soft rays caressing the surface of the sea.

His breath hitched, when he could see the lights of Sindria, his home. He knew, in that place, where the lights shone brighter than anywhere else, was his wife. The woman he loves so dearly, more than anything else on this world. The woman who waited for him, together with their child. The child, he will love and cherish until his last breath. His flesh and blood.

He gulped, getting closer to the island. Getting closer to his wife and child. Closer to the fulfilling anticipation. Coming closer to his home, questions started to spin and form in his head.

Would it be a boy? A brave and courageous boy who will become a fine man? Always curious and eager to learn? Who will protect his mother and become a great king for Sindria? Would he a boy who has such a charm on women like his old man did?

Or would it be a girl? A beautiful and shining girl, who will become a wonderful woman? Always gentle and caring for others? Who will be a good girl and intelligent, outsmarting every boy in her reach? Would she be a girl as strong and independent as her mother?

Would his child have his hair, face and her eyes? Or her hair, face and his eyes? What will be its strengths? Its weaknesses? Its goals? Its priorities? Its future?

He shook his head, getting closer and closer to the palace. As fast as lightning, he flew through the sky, until he landed in the palace grounds, freeing himself from his full body djinn equip. A light breeze drifted through his hair. Golden eyes fixating on the direction of his and his wife's chambers.

"You're back."

Sindria's king turned around, his eyes locking on the face of his right hand. He tensed, when he looked into the serious features of the grand vizir. "Ja'far. Layla...is Layla..."

Fear struck his heart, his stomach. Sweat started to form on his forehead and run down in small beads down his face. "Is Layla..."

Ja'far sighed. "The queen is alright, the birth was without any complications. Your child was born safely and healthy. The queen went to sleep a couple of hours ago. Yamuraiha checked on her one hour ago and she was resting." A small smile tugged on his lips. "She refused to stand up. The time she will get from bed will be tomorrow evening - she wanted at least to rest for one day."

Relief flooded through his veins like his blood. A deep breath escaped his lungs and mouth, putting a hand on his chest, right above his heart. "Thank god."

"Sin."

As quick as thunder, he looked into his face. "Ja'far, as much as I want to listen to you know, I would rather go to Layla-"

"I'm sorry, but this is one thing I have to do."

Suddenly, pain spreaded through his face and he stepped back, his hand on his nose. Liquid seeped out of his nose, covering his palm. "Ja'far...why-"

"I was asked by the queen to do this. She told me to punch you as your punishment that you missed your son's birth." The vizier sighed. "You can be happy that it was me who punched you, instead of the queen. I think she would have made you unconscious."

Once again, sweat drops formed on his forehead when he nodded slightly. Although he wasn't very happy about his wife's request, he couldn't help but agree with the words of his right hand. Her punch would have made him dizzy and unconscious, for at least three days.

And if that wasn't enough, her djinn Valac would have helped her as well. Although known as the spirit of desire and wellbeing, she was one of the many reasons his wife was so feared. Not only by him or the generals, but also by many enemies.

On second thought, maybe he was a pretty lucky man to have married a woman like her. But that thought aside...

She really could be a bit scary.

A bit?

Never mind. Back to business.

"I understand." Sinbad nodded once. "Was that everything?"

"If I were you, I would be on guard." Ja'far crossed his arms in his sleeves. "When she ordered me to punch you, she said the word 'consort.' I would be prepared for her reaction."

The word _consort_ was never a good sign. Rather the opposite - as soon as she says consort instead of Sinbad or Sin, he knows that he did something to draw her wrath.

The king gulped.

"You should clean off your blood, before you visit her." With those words, Ja'far turned on his heel and distanced himself from his king. "Congratulations, Sinbad."

* * *

It was quiet in the purple leo tower. His steps were the only noises that interrupted the silence, cutting through the thick fog. His heartbeat elevated, his blood running impatiently through its ways, passing his veins. His breath became deeper and heavier with every step.

With one last step he stood in front of the door to his and his wife's chambers. A deep sigh, a deep breath, calming his heart, then he slowly opened the door. As quiet as possible, he sneaked into the room, closing the wood behind him, straightening his back and body. He turned around, locking his eyes on the bed.

His heart skipped a beat.

A light gurgling echoed through the room, resonating through the walls. A voice hummed a soft lullaby. The moon a beautiful play on the bed sheets. The long, brown hair of his wife was splayed across the white covers, the moon soaking it in its white light. A single candle played shadow plays on his queen's face. The young woman lay on her side, a small bundle wrapped in white blankets right next to her. A baby held her finger and began to chew on it, his little fingers wrapped around. Golden eyes were widely open, looking into the woman's green eyes.

His breath hitched, no words left his mouth.

His family.

The young woman shifted slightly, slowly rising from her lying stance. Her green eyes looked at him, a smile on her face.

The most beautiful smile he has ever seen.

"Sinbad." His name rolled off her tongue like a melody. "Welcome home."

So much love lay in her words. Her sparkling eyes, her smile, her shining face. Everything covered up her pale face and the deep bags under her eyes. This happiness, this joy covered every exhaustion she had to endure.

"Layla..." He couldn't say any other word. Too struck with the occurrence that was in front of him. The picture made his world crumble, shaking. He could feel dizzy. He could only say her name. "Layla..."

She held out her hand. "Come here." She titled her head. "Your son wants to see you."

His son.

May the high powers of the world forgive him. His son.

His flesh and blood.

The purple haired king swallowed every word and stepped forward, got closer to the woman he chose and his son. Slowly, he sat the edge of the bed, his eyes locked into a pair of the same colour. A light giggle escaped the queen's lips, as she slowly lifted her child, coaxing more gurgling out of his little mouth. The little boy in her arms, she looked at him. "Say hello to your son." She kissed the child's forehead. "Erol."

"Erol..." He couldn't pin-point it, but this child's name, was something he will treasure. Forever, until his last breath. A small came upon his face. "Erol sounds wonderful. Strong, independent." He carresed his son's head. "I love it."

"I thought so." She looked at the child in her arms, who now looked at its father in curiosity. "Say hello to your daddy, Erol." She kissed his temple, until she turned to her husband. "Do you want to hold him?"

He couldn't say any words. He just nodded.

Sinbad scooped closer to her, feeling the baby's weight in his arms. Gulping, he looked at the baby's face. He gulped once again, trying to free the knot in his throat, his voice not louder than a whisper, only heard by the person he loves and his son. Golden eyes were locked on his face.

He couldn't stop the tears running down his face. How many times did he put his ear on his wife's bump whenever she was resting in the evening or in the morning. How many times did he hear his baby moving inside her stomach, feeling its kicking and movements. Until now, it was only a dream to see it in fresh and blood.

Layla lay her head on his shoulder, watching them looking at each other. With a hand on his face, she titled his face into her direction and kissed him lightly on his lips. It was only a second or two, but it was lingering. They looked at each other in relief, in happiness, in bliss. They would savor this moment forever. Treating it like the biggest treasure in the world.

Oh, because it was more valuable than anything else in this world. More valuable than any treasure, more valuable than their djinn equips ore more valuable than anything they achieved until now. Because everything until now was only something material, their victories became the realization of their wishes.

But this treasure in the king's arms wasn't material, it was a child. A child, with so much hope and curiosity. A child, for whom was worth to fight for the future, to the future.

Sinbad smiled, leaning onto his wife, looking with her into the golden eyes.

"Welcome, Erol."

* * *

Did you like it? Was it okay? If you have any suggestions for changing it pls tell me. I'm always happy to hear advice.

So, the suggestions for the _fourth_ chapter (trust me, I will continue this)

1\. Sinbad vs Layla (You decide the outcome)

2\. Layla's relationship to her two djinns

3\. Layla's memories of her mother and the tragedy that lies behind them

If you are surprised, I will always pick the two that didn't win into the next suggestions, because I seriously want to publish them. But I can already imagine which one is going to win. (I'm curious if I'm about to be right)

If you have any suggestions for any oneshots, you can write a Review or a pm. And I don't bite, you can. Seriously. No joke. I'm not kidding you.

Okay, back to buisness. :D

I hope you enjoyed this and be eager to vote. Pls... :D

Until next time. ^^


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Gentle Silence**

In regular case, Layla was a brave woman. Courageous. Strong. Independent. Feared by everyone who dared to get on her bad side.

But in this case, she was scared as hell. She hid her trembling hands under the cloak she was wearing, shivers running up and down her spine, feeling hot and cold at the same time. A blush creeping to her face, she looked upwards, into the sky; hoping that maybe she could feel some reassurance.

The sky was in a deep blue, the sun shining brightly, seagulls crying, a light breeze slightly cooling her heated skin. Small sweat drops formed on the side of her head, running down her cheek and jawline.

Why did she have to do that?

"Layla, are you okay? You seem pretty off."

 _And why did he have to see her like this?_

"It's nothing." She buried her face in the collar of her cloak, her back turned to him. She knew that he wouldn't leave it be - but in this moment, she so hoped that he would.

"Something's off."

And he did it again.

One of his arms wrapped around her waist, the other feeling her forehead. "Do you have a fever? You're really hot." He lay his head on her shoulder. "Do you want to lie down?"

"No, I'm fine." Even though his touch was always smoothing and calming, this time, he couldn't make it better. The heat emmiting from him made her feel even hotter. As if she stands in fire, her skin burning and her heart beating rapidly against her chest. She could almost hear it shatter.

With trembling breath, her hands glided down where his arms lay, intervening her fingers with her own. The strength that lay in his hands always made her feel safe and even in this moment, she didn't know how it was possible - one second ago, she was trembling as if she stands in the deepest winter and now she was more relaxed than before. Winter has turned to spring.

At least.

"What's wrong?" His whisper glided into her ear, making her feel even smaller. And in fact, Layla was taller than the average woman. "Having regrets?"

The worry in his words was coming close to her, making her heart shatter finally.

"No, I don't have regrets. I'm glad that I came with you." She leaned against his chest, hear left ear searching for his heart beat. "But you know...for eighteen years, I've only lived with the Yambala and I've never left my home. I'm a little bit scared, to admit it. I don't know how I shall react if your compagnions see me. Maybe they don't even approve of me. Maybe they won't find me worthy to stand by your side."

She flinched, when his arms left her hips. She knew that this was a serious topic between them. She couldn't count how many times they were talking about this whole issues, but it didn't leave her mind.

Not after so many things happened in this one year.

Suddenly, his hand was on her head, stroking her strands. His hand want to her top to the side of her head, pulling her towards his chest once again. Green eyes widened as soon as she could hear his heartbeat.

"Don't worry so much." His words were spoken in a quiet voice, nearly failing to break the silence. But it was reassuring to think about it. "They will love you as much as I do. Though I can imagine that some will be really surprised, but don't worry. They will accept you and love you, just like I do."

His lips was on hers, drowning her in a feeling she was so unsure about. She loved this man in front of her, with his long purble hair and his beautliful golden eyes, his handsome features and his stengths. He was admirable and lovable.

"Besides, I think they will be scared of you once they know about the achievement we've done during this one year abscene." He whispered, tipping his index finger on the golden necklace. The eight-pointed star shone lightly. "Once they know that you have two djinns, I'm pretty sure you will be accepted."

"Oh come on." She sighed quietly, burying her head into her lover's chest. "You already have four, I don't want to hear one word from your side."

"But I've began at a younger age and besides, I can't resist to conquer one as soon as I see a dungeon."

"You also enjoy this whole thing. I have two and I'm completely satisfied. I don't need to go through the same hell's trial again."

Oh, how she could remember it. Inside the spear that was a present from her father, laying inside her cabin and in the golden necklace she wore, her djinns lived, waiting for their mistress's command.

"Marbas and Valac." She put her hands on her necklace, slowly rising her hands, looking at the eightpointed star. She could feel the energy, the power this metal vessel held, stronger than any human power. "I'm surprised until today how I was able to get through them."

"You are strong, Layla." He stepped back, putting his hand on her head again. "You are a strong woman. If you are able to conquer a dungeon, then you will be able to survive the meeting between you and the others."

She sighed deeply, her right hand feel, her left still lingering on the cool gold. "I hope so."

Fifteen minutes later, the reim empire could be located.

* * *

Her spear was heavy in her hand. The fabric around her head protected her from the burning sun. With a silver pin, she clipped the texture at her neck. With a deep sigh, she shouldered her back, taking her spear in her right hand, laying over her shoulder.

"Are you ready?"

She glared at him. "I wish I were."

Sinbad laughed slightly, taking her hand in his, intervening her fingers. "Don't worry. Trust me, they will like you."

"I hope you are ready for a punishment if they will hate me."

"I'm as ready as I ever be."

She rolled her eyes. "You are impossible."

Pulling her with him forward, he shot her a grin. "I know. And that's why you love me."

Her mouth slightly turned upward. "Indeed, that's one reason of why I love you."

He pulled stronger, bringing her through the crowd. She could feel the stares of the people on her head, making Layla feel uncomfortable. Did they never see a young woman with a brown shawl around her head, covering her hair? What was so surprising?

"There it is."

And in this moment, she wished she could just vomit.

Immediatly he started to walk forward, pulling her with him. With every taken step, her nausea grew and grew. She didn't even have one bite to eat and still had the urge need to clean her stomach from everything that filled her. Even if it was only emptiness.

But Layla had to admit, that the building was beautiful, majestic. She only knew the tents she had to sleep in for eighteen years, so she never had the honour to see such a building so close.

And the fact, that he was bringing her to this building didn't make anything better. Even worse.

She knew that Sinbad was a merchant and the head of a company. And while she asked in some little towns, she also knew that he was pretty succesful. But not in this reach.

She totally underestimated him.

"Ready?"

"Not really-"

"Too late." And with one final pull, she fell forward, only barely able to catch on her feet. She surpressed a scream toring from her mouth. She didn't stop to feel the urge to vomit.

Oh, may the see bless her to survive this.

They passed a great entrance, emptied. Nobody was there. Maybe everyone was somewhere else so she could pass the first meeting?

But she could hear chattering behind the closed doors. Her breath became more excited with every passing minute. What would she prefer? Burn at the stake? Drowning? Being hit by a lighting?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Sinbad opened the door.

Normally, she loved him more than anyone else. But in this moment, she just had one wish.

To punch him so hard that he faints.

"Sindria Trading Company thrives again today!"

With those words, he entered the great room. Layla could only see a bit of the great room, more focused to look on the ground. As soon as her lover stood still, she moved to hide behind her back, her fingers only light on his shoulders. He was taller then her so she could hide herself very good.

"President Sinbad!"

"You've returned." Joyous words and voices were directed at the purple haired teenager. She could almost her his grin in the small noises he made.

"How have you been?"

"Was your journey succesful?"

"It is good to see you again!"

He laughed. "I apologize for my long abscene. I hope our course is the same as one year before."

"Even better, president."

"Those are great news."

"Sin."

Layla froze on the spot. She didn't have to look up to know to whom this voice belonged. She knew it was from the one who should become Sinbad's advisor, the first Djinn knight. Ja'far.

"Oh Ja'far."

Damn, she was good.

"It's good to see you again. I hope that you are feeling better."

His grin became brighter. "Oh, much better, thank you."

A blush crept to her cheeks. She knew this undertone - she knew he was talking of her.

Layla made herself smaller.

"Have you grown taller?" She thanked the gods that he stayed on his feet, not moving anywhere. "You seem much bigger than before."

An desperate sigh escaped his lips. She could only feel empathy with this man. "One year has passed and now you're complimenting me on my seize. Thank you very much, Sin."

"Come on, Ja'far, we haven't seen each other in one year. Leave me be." He paused, her heart suddenly crushed by fear. "Actually, where are Hinahoho, Drakon and Masrur? I would like to tell you something."

"Thanks to the loud voices here, I bet they will be here any moment."

"Sinbad."

"There they are."

Her heart beat became even faster.

"It's been a while. Welcome back."

She could hear two grunts. "Thank you Hinahoho. It's good to see you again." She looked up, saw how he moved his head to the left and right. "Where is Rurumu?"

"President Sinbad, what a wonderful sight to see you back again."

His grin didn't falter.

"We should celebrate your return. It's been too long since we've seen you."

The voice of Hinahoho got agreeing statements.

"Okay, but before that, I have to tell you something."

Her moment has come. The moment of truth and awkardness has come. And she wasn't happy about this. In fact, her only wish was to retreat, having a shadow's life. Turning back the time so the situation was switched - he meeting all members of the Yambala, with his charming smile and friendly attitude. After having decided that she comes with him, she was determined to have the same attitude - open minded, friendly and charming. But she wasn't.

Why didn't her father stand next to her? He would have protected her from this situation. After all, he was socially awkward and didn't like being introduced. He liked the part where he had to introduce.

"Actually, I have someone to introduce to you."

She could feel his hand on her arms, pulling her forward once again. She left her safe place behind him to step forward into the light. She stood on solid ground, her trembling stopped for a short period. And she looked up, into the faces of the people who are dear to Sinbad and he always speak so fondly of.

They were staring at her, the texture on her head flew to her neck, showing her long, silky brown hair. He held her hand in his, their fingers intervened. Slowly, she could feel his hand on her shoulder, pulling her slightly towards his shoulder.

"I want you to meet, Layla." She tensed her bag and spear heavy against her right side. She could hear a few mumblings.

Sinbad was known with his suprises. And in regular case, she loved suprises.

But she prayed to the heavens that he kept his mouth shut.

"Daughter of one of the three leaders of the Yambala tribe..." Good start, nothing awkward.

"Bearer of two metal vessels..." It went downhill.

"And the woman I fell in love with."

The end.

Gasps echoed through the entire room. She looked at the person who stood right in front of Sinbad. He was a young boy, had white hair, green eyes like her own and had freckles on his face. This had to be Ja'far.

She gulped, the grip on her spear tightened, Sinbad didn't let go of her shoulder.

"It is a pleasure-"

A dump noise interrupted her.

Ja'far fell unconscious.

"Ladykiller."

The mumbled word let her sigh in desperation.

What a wonderful start.

* * *

Her arms hung over the balcony railing, her hair falling down her back. "I told you that it will be a catastrophe."

"It has nothing to do with you, you know."

Pulling back, she looked over her shoulder. "OF course it has nothing to do with me. He only fell unconcious when you told them that we are in a relationship."

"You see? Ja'far didn't faint because it was you in paticular, but the fact that I brought a woman with me in general. It could be anyone else and he would probably have fallen unconcious."

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "You're always making these things so easy."

"Or he fainted because your beauty was too stunning for him to bear."

A slight blush climbed onto her cheeks. Leaving the balcony and closing the door behind her, she went to sit down next to him on the bed. It was a strange feeling. Feeling the soft matress under her fingertips reminded her of the eighteen years prior - the only bed she knew was in the tent she used to live in. She never slept in a real bed before.

"You're just impossible. I don't understand how I'm able to survive this with you." Despite her words, she lay her head on his shoulder, burying her head into his clothes. "Do you really think that they will like me?"

His arm snuck around her waist, pulling her flush against his side. With his other hand, he played with the strands of her hair. "Absolutely. Don't be so tense. You'll see, this evening we're gonny celebrate and they will start to get to know you and love you." He placed a kiss on her forehead. "At least, there is nobody who wants to kill me for our relationship." Sinbad frowned deeply, suddenly shivering.

Although the situation was absolutely unsuitable, she couldn't help but laugh. She remembered the look on her father's face on their announcement as clear as yesterday's sun. "He was one step away to kill you."

"I still think he wanted to strangle me."

"Or burn."

"Or impale."

"Or cut your limps away to feed it to the animals."

"Don't say it too loud or your father will consider it." He put his hands on her ears. "He is everywhere. No matter what we are talking about, he will know. Stop giving him ideas."

A smirk was appearing on her lips. "If that is your one and only problem, you shouldn't worry so much. After all the sounds I did while we-"

A knock interrupted her words. Sinbad rose from the bed. "Come in."

The door opened and a gentle looking woman with long blue hair and a beautiful face stepped into the room. A bright smile was present on her face. "President Sinbad, we have prepared everything for the celebration."

"That's great." A smirk was appaerent on his face, when he noticed the intense stare on the woman beside him. "Has Ja'far woken up by now?"

"He's slowly coming to his senses." Her gaze didn't leave the brown-haired beauty next to him. The smile grew wider - prettier - than before. "I don't think I've had the honor to introduce myself to you."

It was a funny sight to see - to watch his lover standing up apruptly and standing next to him, her hands fidgeting. "No, miss." She gulped.

Who knew that this normally calm and reluctand girl could be such a stuttering mess.

The grin on his lips spread wider. He actucally started to like it.

"You're Rurumu, right? Sinbad told me very much about you." She bowed shortly before the woman. "It is a pleasure to meet you." Raising her head, she smiled flustered. "And I aplogize for the chaos I've caused earlier."

"Oh, don't worry about it. It was merely a big surprise for us all." Her eyes glittered, eying the young man. "It is the first time that we meet someone who is called 'lover' by our president."

"That's no surprise." Her tone changed completely - one second ago, it was flustered, nervous and uncertain. But now, it was the stoic tone that made his back shiver.

With that voice, she sounded too much like her father. And the thought of Akhdir standing next to him with those intimidatin green eyes didn't make it better. "I am well aware of his tendencies."

"Layla!" That went too far - what was she saying? "You can't just speak like that if I'm standing next to you. That's unfair!"

"Why?" She rose her eyebrow. Oh, she did that move. "After all, the only reason why you didn't try the same thing with me than with all the woman before, was just because my father stood next to you. You were scared like hell." A grin spread on her lips, titling her head, leaning it on his shoulder. "Like a sheep surrounded by a wolf." For a second, she bursted out into giggling. "It was such an awesome moment. I like to remember it."

Then she turned serious again, not even feeling the need to cough. "I apologize. This was rude of me."

He already knew the strategy. She tried to meme the friendly and polite girl, covering all her bad sides by strengthing his.

He looked into Rurumu's eyes. And instead of looking with an expecting glare, she simply smiled, wearing the same facial expression he remembered until day one. She was a kind woman.

"I will go ahead. We will wait for you two." She smiled and stepped out of the room, leaving those two alone.

A gentle silence erupted between them.

"Oh thank god, she didn't eat me." A sigh of relief was pressed out of her mouth. Her hands lay on her heart. "I was so scared that she was going to devour me."

"You have one crazy fantasy, Layla." Sinbad spoke. "I've told you, nobody wants to eat you. They will like you, I'm sure of it."

"You sound so certain." With a deep sigh, she let herself fall back, hitting the bed. "I'm just not sure. Maybe this whole thing will be a disaster."

His eyes narrowed, seeing her hands trembling and her breath becoming more shallow. He already had this discussion with her - more than just multiple times. He could always say the same sentences again. But this wouldn't help.

Instead, he decided to prove it with actions.

He stepped in front of her, got on his knees and took her hands into his. With fear written in her eyes, she looked at him with a dazed sight. He leaned his forehead against hers. "Although they are all important to me and I trust them with my life, you should know that I will always be by your side." His fingers trailed a path down her jaw. "It's what I told you in your second dungeon." He tipped on the golden necklace, shining lightly with the eight-pointed star. "I promised you I wouldn't leave you alone." He intervened their fingers together. "Don't worry so much and don't use your head like this. Give everything time and you'll see that it isn'T as bad as you think."

She looked at their fingers, slowly nodding, until she leaned her head against his chest. His arms slung around her shoulders.

The cruelest thing wasn't even his words. No.

The cruelest thing was the gentleness that lay in the silence. He invited her to open her mind, her soul to him.

Her fingers drove into his garments, trembling.

But she couldn't. Not before and not now. Maybe in the future.

In this genlte silence, she bathed her pitiful being and lost herself in his warmth and love.

Just within this gentle silence, she conclued to be happy to have met the people of the Sindria trading company.

* * *

Somehow, I get the Feeling that Sinbad is extremely OOC. If this is the case, please tell me so I can Change it a Little bit.

So, Winter turned to spring and I can finally give you the third chapter of this oneshot series. I apologize for the wait and I hope you will be eager to continue reading "The King and the Flower Girl."

Thank you very much for the many Suggestions you've made for this series, I will try to realize them as soon as possible. (Let's just hope this won't take another four months) Besides, I'm grateful for the lovely Reviews you've given me till now. Thanks for this. ^^

I've already written the fourth chapter and the fifth chapter as well, since both choices had the same amount of votes.

Those are the choices for the **sixth** chapter:

1\. Layla's memories of her mother and the tragedy that lies behind them

2\. Sinbad's proposal and upcoming years.

3\. Sinbad's relationship with this son, Erol.

I'm looking Forward to the results.

And one last Thing: if you find any mistakes (you definitely will) this chapters has not been beta-read yet. As soon as I get the correct Version if Shad0w0w0lf, I will edit all mistakes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Spirits in Heart**

 _"I am Marbas, spirit of fury and lie. I am a master of lighting. Who will be king?"_

 _"My name is Valac, spirit of desire and wellcare. I am the wind in every storm. Who will be king?"_

In the course of her life, she has forgotten many sentences. Some introductions, some goodbyes. With the passing years, they faded in her head. Forgetting unneccesary words, which held nothing inside. Moments were more important - the people involved, the scenery, the time. Words were mostly used to cover silence - the one thing she enjoyed the most. Layla wasn't a person who had to talk very much. She was used to silence, enjoying her like other people loved to spend time with their friends.

There were only a couple of sentences in her head that remained. And will probably remain forever.

 _"It is your fault!"_

 _"Run, don't pay attention to me. You have to survive! Run!"_

 _"It's a pleasure-"_

 _"You've mastered Magoi manipulation? That's amazing."_

 _"No matter what happens, I am by your side."_

 _"Wouldn't you consider to come with me?"_

 _"Will you stay by my side forever?"_

 _"My name is Layla. I am the queen of Sindria."_

Moments that stamped her life: The tragedy behind her childhood, the meeting with the man she has grown to love, his proposal and the first time she had to introduce herself as the second reigner of Sindria. These moments needed words - although the actions that were done spoke more than anything else: the pain that damaged her body and soul until all eternity, the moment in which she ran faster than ever before, the first time she felt his hand around her own, the first kiss, the first night, the moment when she felt the golden ring on her finger.

But those moments weren't all. There was more.

 _Much, much more._

The first time she looked into the spirit's faces, she felt a deep shiver run down her spine. Her breath became hitched, her right hand clutched around the spear, the other trembling. Sweat bent down her face and her knees began to buckle. She just wanted to tear her eyes away, to look into another direction. But she didn't. Once her sight was set on the blue djinn, she couldn't unlock it. It was there. In that moment, nothing else mattered.

They were more than she could ever have imagined. The reality was so different from her fantasy.

She heard stories from Sinbad. She was interested in those djinns, the dungeon capturing and the concept of chosen kings. She looked at his metal vessels, touched the eightpointed stars lightly with her finger tips. It was fascinating, it made her curious.

And on that fateful evening, the fury became to much too bear and the desire for the new and unknown became bigger than her fear. And she set out from the Yambala village to enter that mysterious dungeon. From the first second she put foot into the mysterious bulding, she felt the magoi. Like a river that flood through the walls.

This was the one thing she needed. Power. Independece. The chance to escape. And while she was clearing the dungeon, she never felt this alive. It was true. In a dungeon, everyone was equal. So she didn't need to feel fear from that man. She was free.

And that was the elixir she needed.

* * *

 _"I am Marbas, spirit of fury and lie. I am a master of lighting. Who will be king?"_

Maybe it was cheesy, but Marbas was beautiful. She remembered him as clear as yesterday. The last time she has seen him was ten years ago. But the picture of his face didn't leave her mind. He had a serious face, light blue irises and hair pulled into a ponytail. As soon as he left his home, the jewel box standing on an altar, he made himself small. His enormous size stopped intimadting her, making himself as tall as she was. His tail turned into legs and he stood in front of the jewel box.

"Well." His tone didn't betray even one of his emotions. "How may I help you?"

She gulped. "Well...you are the djinn of this dungeon, aren't you?"

"Precisely." His gaze made her heart sing in agony and fear. His gaze became skeptical, when he raised his hand, silently commanding her. "Come forward, young woman."

Her hand held her spear and she silently obliged. With every step she took, her heart being close to bursting, she felt the fear. She felt the power. She felt the chances.

She needed to conquer this djin. At every cost.

She was only two steps away from him, standing still. Refusing to continue, the djinn kept looking at her. He clicked his tongue and bridged the remaining gap. He took her chin, lifting it to meet her eyes. Green looked into light blue. Her skin tingled, the places he touched were filled with an unknown feeling. He looked at the right and left side of her face, skeptical. He let go of her chin, stepping back and crossing his arms in front of his chest. "You want to be my king?"

Was that a test? Would he call this dungeon cleared when she gave him the right answer? What if she gave the wrong answer? Would she die? Be locked in this dungeon forever until someone else clears it? Should she answer his question? Give him another question as her response? Was there any hint he hid behind his words? What was the purpose? Why did he do it? She reached the throne room, didn't she? According to Sinbad, she should have cleared this dungeon, becoming the master of the djinn. Why did he ask her this question? Why didn't he leave her alone?

"Why are you the spirit of fury and lie if you make such a face?"

She couldn't answer his question.

"That isn't the answer I was excepting." His gaze turned from skeptical to dangerous. "Answer my question, young woman. Do you want to be my king?"

"If I answer that question, I won't know the outcome. Promise me something." Her grip around her spear lossened, her shoulders falling down. "If I answer your question, tell me the answer to mine."

"Why should I?" He rose his eyebrows. "You entered this realm by your own will. But you're not my master yet, so I'm not obliged to listen to your commands."

"You said yet. So that means I will become your master."

"That depends on your answer"

"So, if I will become your master, will you answer my quesiton?"

A strange kind of amuesment crossed his face. "I wouldn't have any other choice, won't I?" He shrugged, the amusement becoming clearer on his face. He coughed. "Now, I am asking one last time." His eyes were as sharp and strong as lightning. "You want to be my king?"

She blinked, her eyelashes fluttering. Layla closed her eyes, sinking her head. "Yes.", she whispered. "I want to be your king."

"And why is that?"

Her hand clutched tighter around her spear. "I want my chance to be free. I want power to release myself from my chains."

"And why do you think that you need my power to fulfill your wish?"

"I want to walk straight, into a future where I won't be a burden anymore. I just want to protect those people that are dear to me."

"You mean you want to protect yourself from your own shame and guilt."

The brown-haired girl didn't give an answer to the djinn's words.

"I see the fire in your eyes, feel the ice in your heart. You won't be free from the things that were done to you, harming you in more than one way. Your fury is quiet, based on lies that you believe in. These lies are responsible for this darkness embracing you, nearly drowning you. But the more you believe in lies, the greater your fury will be." His eyelashes were long, nearly touching his cheeks. "That's why I choose you as my king."

Layla raised her head jerkily, as fast as she could. A bright light nestled into the blade of her spear, an eight-pointed star appeared on the silver metal. "My fury is yours, your fury is mine. You are my king. Use my power to your heart's content."

Darkness greeted her, as soon as she closed her eyes. It felt like thunders prickled in her fingertips. Smelling the scent of burned ash and skin, she rested her head against the never-ending void, letting herself fall.

When she woke up, she was greeted by the sight of a sleeping Sinbad, leaning against the tents walls. Snorting softly, his chest rose and fell gently. From the peaks she could get, Layla was capable to assume that it was night.

Maybe everything was a dream; going to the dungeon, facing all dangers, actually seeing thunder and lighting with her own two eyes and finally meeting the djinn. Marbas - spirit of fury and lie. She sighed, putting a hand on her heart. Maybe everything was just a dream...

when suddenly a sharp bolt of pain went through her chest.

Only now she registered that there were bandages tied around her chest; around her arms, legs and her head. Moving her hand to touch her head, she looked left and right. And there it was. The spear that she called her own.

With caution, she looked at the purple haired teenager, slowly raising herself from her lying position. Walking quietly to the other side, she touched her weapon. The weapon that her father gave her.

As soon as she touched it, the tingling returned to her fingertips. She touched the spear, pulling itself to her. Her gaze was locked on the eight-pointed star.

 _"My power is yours to use, my king."_

* * *

 _"My name is Valac, spirit of desire and wellcare. I am the wind in every storm. Who will be king?"_

The tingling in her hand remained. Everytime she felt the metal of her blade under her fingertips, she felt the power. The power that Marbas gave her. It was addicting. She couldn't stop. She wanted to feel this thrill. Entering a dungeon and clearing it.

Sinbad was standing next to her. The last time she went off without any warning or message, he was worried sick. At least, that's what he told her. And that was even before their relationship started.

She told him the truth - she wanted to give the dungeon clearing a second try. She wanted to feel the thrill that pumped through her veins, feeling the unexplainable power. She needed it to see, to feel it. He warned her. "The possibility to die in there isn't small, I hope you know that."

"I have Marbas, I mastered him. You won't have to worry."

"Don't even think about it. I will come with you. I don't want to feel the same fear that drove through me the last time you entered one."

The discussion came to an end. And what did they do? As soon as night approached, they sneaked of the village to arrive at the high building that appeared in the middle of nowhere. They were able to get through it together. She used the power of her djinn, just like she announced.

This thrill made her feel alive. More alive than nearly everything else on this world.

The shining eyes of the woman looked down on them. She nearly expected to see a serious and reserved expression, having learned from Marbas. But the opposite was the case - a glittering in her eyes and a smile on her lips made her look likable. Her hair fell down in soft waves, a small breeze letting it play around her high cheek bones. "My, what an interesting couple." She bent down to them. "Two dungeon capturers? Two chosen kings? And with those djinns." A warm smile played on her full lips. "My, I'm impressed." The smile turned to a pout, a finger on her djinn. "But now I have to choose." The green iris bore themselves into their minds. "Tell me - which one of you wants to be chosen?"

She eyed them coyly. "Since you two already know of this whole process, I won't explain it. You both are aware what happens after one of my kind decides to serve a human being." From the single finger, she cupped her chin with her hand. "But my, that is a pretty difficult choice. You both are so fit to be king." Titling her head to the side, she snapped with her finger. "Oh, I know."

From the corner of their eyes, Sinbad and Layla looked at each other.

"You two have to discuss it between yourself. You decide who will become king." Her eyes were glittering. "Start with your discussion, I'll wait until you are finished."

"Seriously?" It baffled her. "We have to decide who conquers this dungeon?"

"Sure thing." The djinn shrugged innocently. "I mean, look at you both. You two already have djinns and despite many others, I trust the judgement the others have made. If djinns like them chose you two, then it will have to mean something. You two are very fitting to be king and do you know how difficult it is to choose something so exquisite?" She clapped her hands, until folding her in front of her legs. "You have the complete free reign. You choose whom I shall choose. Oh, how funny."

A light giggle escaped her mouth.

Sinbad sighed deeply. "Layla." His gaze was serious. "What shall we do?"

"I don't know." Helplessly, she gave a shrug. "I mean, we both are here. And we saved each other. So nobody did more than the other." She sighed. "How shall we decide it?"

"Maybe tossing a coin?"

He gulped and gave a cry out of pain. "Are you kidding me? You know how grave this situation is and you want to toss a coin?" She pulled at his ear. "I know that you have some strange ideas, but this is really the top of everything. The next time I see a couple discussing about getting children, I will propose them throwing a coin. That will definietly help."

She pulled harder at his ear, his cries of pain became louder. "Okay, okay, I get it! Let me go, let me go!"

With a sigh, she released his ear. "Seriously, we need a strategy to decide. I don't want to know how much time is passing while we stand here, discussing about this topic."

"Then propose something." He rubbed his now red ear. "You will have to know how to settle this."

"We should have talked about before we set off."

"You were the one who wanted to get straight away. You barely told me that you wanted to go a dungeon and whoops, we're here. And as soon as we entered it, we had to face tornados."

"Marbas was a great help after all. Trust me on this." She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Trust me the next time."

"Alright, alright." He straightened his back. "Back to the question: what shall we do?" He looked at her skeptical, already stepping back. "Maybe a fight?"

He escaped her catching arms. "Of course. Do you want us to get hurt after we managed to get through this thing? Great idea." She lowered her gaze. "You know something? I step back. The djinn is yours to take."

"What?" He rose his eyes to meet her green, golden sparkling in surprise. "Are you really sure? You can take it as well."

"Sorry to interrupt." Valac made herself present. "But you both have to agree on your decision. You just can't say that the other will have it. That's against the rules."

"Which rules?"

"The rules I just invented."

A deep groan left the woman's mouth. "My decision is set, Sinbad. Become king and master of this djinn."

"Layla..." His eyes were filled with concern. "Are you really sure? I mean, I'm happy and honored that you give me this chance but...don't you want to think about this one more time?"

Her serious expression faded. Instead of the frown and pressed lips, there was a relaxed expression on her features. A smile was present on her lips - and it took his breath away. "Sinbad." She walked forward, taking his hand and pressing it against her chest. "You will change the world. But in order to change it, you need power. Much power, since changing the world isn't such an easy task." The irony was strong within this one. "We both have our dreams. But shall I tell you something?"

He only nodded.

"To make my dream come true, I already have everything I need. I have Marbas, who is granting me so much power - enough power to free myself from my own chains and hardships."

His face became darker.

"I don't want much. I just want to live freely without any burden on my back. I want to know that I will stop being a burden. And..." She suddenly blushed, holding a hand in front of her mouth. "My dreams are so little in comparison to yours."

"You know, if you eat a piece of the chesse, you have to eat the rest as well."

"What is that supposed to mean?!" She spat at the djinn. A smile was present on her lips. "You started to give us your heart. Bring it to an end." The djinn looked at her sweetly. "What is your dream?"

She hissed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She wasn't sure why, but she could hear Marbas giggling in her ear. "Okay, okay. To be honest..." The words were like chewy meat. "My only wish is to settle down, marry a good man and get a couple of children. I don't want more."

Silence erupted after her words. When she looked into her lover's face, the blush on her face only became deeper. His expression was baffled and surprised. She looked away, instead keeping her gaze on the djinn. "So, we have this settled. Could you just accept Sinbad as your master?"

Valac was smiling down on her. Her expression was so filled with warmth and love, that she couldn't help but feel it - seeing the look a mother would give her child.

Her chest tightenes at the thought.

"Sorry, my sweet king, I can't do it."

A pause. Two pauses. ... One thousand pauses.

"What?!" Her eyes widened, her expression darkened, her voice furious. "Are you kidding me? I just packed out, told him things I've wanted to keep for myself, just to convince him to take you as his djinn, embarassing myself more than just a little and now you're telling me you won't do it? Are you kidding me? You can't mean this serious!"

"Of course I do." The grin was as bright as light. "I choose you as my king."

One thousand and one pauses. One thousand and two pauses...two thousand pauses.

"What?!"

"You seem to forget that I also have a voice in this matter. I decide who wil become my king." She titled her head. "And I decided that it will be you."

"But what is with the rules? You've said it is our decision. Keep your word!"

"I am a woman, sweetheart. We have the tendency to change our minds from one second to the next." She clapped her hands like a game. "My decision won't be changed."

"But why?" She stepped furiously on the ground. "Sinbad is a better candidate than I am. He should be the one!"

Her heart beat became agitated. She felt so ashamed. She has just revealed what her dream was to him and now she did all this for nothing. Why did this djinn want her anyway? She was satisfied with Marbas, the spirit of fury and lie.

She wasn't worthy to be the master of the spirit of desire and wellcare. That was absolutely certain.

"Layla..." Suddenly, warm hands lay on her shoulder. She heard his voice behind her, slowly crawling in her ear. And - gods be damn - his voice always had this soothing effect on her. Her heart beat became calmer. "Calm down."

"But-" She wanted to move, but she was caged in his arms. His grip around her shoulders kept her locked in his embrace. She wanted to say something, but no words escaped her mouth.

"It's alright. If she wants you, then so be it." He pressed his cheek against hers. "I'm not the king she's looking for."

It became too much. Too much to bear, too much to hear, too much to feel. It wasn't right what he's saying. Those were lies. She wasn't suit to be a king. The idea of her ruling about anything? IT was ridiculous. She wasn't suited to be one. But Sinbad was.

"It is wrong of you to choose me, Valac."

"And what makes you think that?"

She breathed deeply in and out. "I am not suited to be your master. I am not worthy to be the master of such a djinn as you are."

"Really?" The beautiful woman began to pout. "Then why can you be the king's candidate for Marbas and not for me?"

Sinbad's arms around her tightened. She wanted to get out, but she couldn't. Layla look deeply into her eyes. "You are the spirit of desire and wellcare. Marbas is the spirit of fury and lie. I have no problems that he is my djinn and I his king vessel, because we share the same feelings and core." Her voice became quieter. "My life is made out of fury. My whole life, there is an eternal wrath inside of me. Darkness is my best friend, I've gotten used to it. I live a lie - everytime I look into the sky, I'm wondering why I don't want run. If I run, I could escape this whole misery - and even if I will never be able to put it aside, until that man dies." Her right hand lay on Sinbads arm, her other clutched her spear tighter. "This consists of the possibillity that some things will change. But they will never - I am stuck in this whole thing and I will never get out. I'm even lying to myself that I've wanted Marbas power to get out of this, but a djinn grants great strength - but not enough to free me." A bitter smile climbed upon her lips. "I feel no desire. The only thing I want is survival. I want to survive my time until I know that death approaches and knocks at his door, so my chains will be bursted and I can finally be free. But until then, I have to stuck with this." She lowered her face, pressing her forehead against the warm skin of her lover. "That's why Sin is a better candidate than me. He will change the world - it will take years to grant this dream, but I know that my life is at its end. My life will begin as soon as I'm free." She ignored the tears in her eyes. "And that will take some time until that happens."

Although she didn't want to, silent tears ran down her face. She could feel the silent treating of the djinn in front of her. A soft breath was taken, until Sinbad released Layla from his grip. She couldn't comprehend it fast enough - only half a second later, she could feel Valac's finger on her chin, slowly raising her face. "My dear king, don't cry. Crying doesn't suit such a wonderful girl as you are."

She made herself smaller, turning her size into one of human's imagination. She wiped her tears away, pressing her forehead against the girl's. "Listen to me, Layla." Her eyes widened, looking into shining green eyes. "Everything you said proves me right - you shall be my king. And before you say anything else, let me explain: desire and wellcare are my attributes, that's true. But shall I tell you something?" Her eyelashes fluttered. "They are attributes that make humans human. Without them, you wouldn't know what it means to support each other. And a human being without any dreams doesn't exist - without desire, there are no dreams, no wishes, no hopes. You told me your dream and I could see that you've wanted the best for your lover. You represent those two things." Her smile was so bright, nearly blinding her. "My queen."

With her fingers, she tipped at the golden necklace around her throath, a bright light emitting from the metal. "I am yours, my queen. My desire is yours, your desire is mine. You are my queen. Use my power to your heart's content."

The beautiful woman disappeared and with her disapperance, a strong wind erupted. Layla turned around, hugging Sinbad as fast as she could. The wind became stronger with every passing seconds, but when she felt his arms around her waist, she wasn't scared. She was at bliss.

She heard the wind quietly speaking with her.

"My power is yours to use, my queen."

* * *

Marbas and Valac. Valac and Marbas.

When she thought about them, she could come to one idea. She was happy with them. They became her best friends. Although it was quiet strange to call a djinn a friend. But she couldn't comprehend it otherwise.

They gave her strength. They gave her everything she ever needed. When she felt lonely, she lay her right hand on the golden necklace, feeling a light breeze over her skin and her right hand on her spear, sending a tingling feeling into her fingertips. She couldn't hear their voices. But Layla could feel them.

She couldn't imagine that any other king vessel would have such a deep connection to her djinns like she did. They were her darkness and her light. Everytime she wore the necklace and held her spear, she was at ease. She knew that they would protect her.

They were her spirits. The spirits in her heart.

And that will never change.

* * *

The next one is coming. And it didn't take me three months. Whoop, whoop.

But I still don't lose the Feeling that Sinbad is extremely OOC. Am I imagining things or is my Feeling right?

Besides that, I have a question for you: would you be interested in introducing some other OC's? Since Sinbad has seven household members, I've been thinking about giving Layla two. And if I have those two, I would let her meet Ren Kouen, who is accompanied by another OC of mine. Would you be interested in such things? If you could tell me, I would be very grateful.

I just hope that everything is understandable within this plot. It was something that came to me during one morning and I've tried to Show Layla's ambivalence by creating two such different djinns. Was that okay?

And one last question: for the sixth chapter, many People wished for Sinbad's relationship with his son Erol. And I ask you if you were interested in the other side, so Layla's relationship with her son. Would you be interested in this?

So, enough questions, These are the next choices for the **seventh** chapter:

1\. Sinbad's proposal and upcoming years

2\. Layla's relationship with her son, Erol

3\. Sinbad's and Layla's announcement about their relationship with the Yamabalas present

The decision between romance, Drama?, and Comedy. I'm looking Forward to the result.

The battle between those two is probably coming upcoming week or one after that.

Summer vacation has started - at least in my Country. What are your plans for summer?


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: King and Queen**

" _Layla_!"

Oh boy, was it this time again?

The brown haired queen lifted her head, looking at the door in surprise and sceptism. She knew that voice, was able to recognize it out of thousands. She looked over her shoulder, outside the window. Lunch wasn't even prepeared, the sun standing at the zenith, its bright rays of light shining on Sindria's grounds and letting the water glitter. When the steps got closer, she directed her eyes back to the door.

He didn't even knock, opening the door. "Layla?," he called again. She could already hear the the vizir's angry voice in her ears. "Yes?"

He stepped into the room as soon her voice resonated from the walls. He closed the door, looking at her in radiance. His smile was bright, charming. Too charming.

She rose her eyebrows, putting down the feather next to the glass filled with ink. She sat back, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "How may I help you?"

He looked slightly confused, coming closer to the young woman. "Is it wrong of me to look after my wife on our first wedding anniversary?"

She sighed deeply, rubbing the bride of her nose. "Sin..." She put her hand on her eyes, closing them. A soft groan stole itself right out of her mouth, when she could feel his hands on her shoulders, his chin next to her head and his lips kissing her cheek. "Layla..."

The tone of his voice went into that direction again. She needed much - very much - to refuse this unspoken proposal to spend the day just like all their anniversaries before. In the same kind of room, with the same activity. All day long.

But they both had responsibilities now. They couldn't do that. Although it was tempting.

"Sin..." She leaned her head against his, playing with this fingers on her right shoulder. "You are running away from Ja'far again?"

At this very moment, he froze. Another sigh escaped her lips. There were two conditions - if he visited her and that before lunch was even prepared. If those two conditions were fulfilled, she knew exactly that he ran away. "I respect you greatly for your courage and your zest for action, but don't you think that this action will only cause you more problems?" She intervened their fingers. "I know that our anniversary is today and it is unfair for us to sit here and do our paperwork like always and every day. But this is our duty now and we mustn't let it slide. I don't want to imagine Ja'far's face as soon as he sees you here."

He let her go, distancing himself from her. The warmth was missing, his pulse against her neck was gone. The feeling of his hands was filling her heart and soul. She sighed. Well, it was her fault that he didn't remain next to her.

"Actually, I've thought of doing something this evening."

"You did?" She picked up the feather and returned to continue her work. "And which idea do you have?"

"Actually, if you're suggesting that we do the same thing like all the years before, you can totally forget it." He froze once again. "Don't you even dare trying to detract from my question. Where is our consellour anyway? I'm surprised he hasn't already started to search for you." She rose from her seat, went around the desk and leaned against it. "What do you want to do until now? Hide from him until you find an apology?"

She didn't get an answer.

She sighed, massaging her temple. "Sin, when will you start acting like a king?" She crossed her arms. "You are a king, representing not only your country but your citizens as well. Sindria loves you, but you should start to act like a monarch instead of running away from your consellour." She lowered her gaze. Sudden, a squeaking sound escaped her lips when she was pulled flush against his chest, his arms around her waist, his forehead pressed against hers. And his lips too close to resist. "That's why we are two, right?" His grin was charming. "You are the voice of reason. We are two halfes of whole. Besides, Sindria wouldn't be this beautiful and worryless if we both were strict and grimm reigners, who don't understand any fun." His right hand climbed up her back, placing itself in her neck, pulling her even closer. "And this is a special day. Remember one year ago?"

"How could I forget it?" She shouldn't do this. But the invitation to feel the warmth of her husband was just too enticing. She leaned her ear against his chest, hearing his heartbeat. "Probably nobody has forgotten the day where the people's good-for-nothing kings marries someone who is at least a bit responsible." She crossed her arms around his neck and smiled brightly at him. Her face got closer to his, her lips only an inch apart from his. "And shall I tell you something..."

She made a pause, her right hand travelling.

"...my dearest _consort_?"

From one second to the other, his entire face froze and she let her left arm fall and grabbed his collar. "I'm happy that I'm married to you. And yes, I agree with you, it is our anniversary and we shouldn't spend the whole day doing them. But you can thank the discipline my father taught me." She lost the hold of his collar, turning around. "I don't know what you will do, but-"

Once again, his arm snuck around her waist, pulling her against him. "Layla..." Her heart beat stopped.

"What would you say about a duel? To decide what we will do today?"

Her ears peaked up. "A duel? You mean a real match? With-"

"With our djinn equip, yes." She could hear the sly undertone in his voice. "What do you say? If I win, we will let the paperwork slide for today. If you win, I will do both your and mine work for today." His hand stroked her cheeck. "What do you say?"

Damn be this man, he just knew her too well. The idea was so good - how long has she been wishing for getting a free day with out any duties behind her back? "Don't you think this is a little bit unfair? If I give all, you just give half of your power to defeat me. I will lose without any struggle."

"It isn't unfair. I promise as your loyal and loving husband to hold myself back so that our chances are equal."

She snorted, then pausing. "Okay." She sighed. "I agree to this arrangement. But with one condition." She looked over her right shoulder into his face. "If I win this duel, you have to explain it to Ja'far and to stand his phillippic. You hear me?"

"Loud and clear, my queen." He shortly kissed her temple, letting her waist go and took her hand instead. "Come on, let's go."

Wordlessly, she followed him. In her mind, only one sentence was present.

Let's just hope this won't destroy Sindria in the heat of the battle.

* * *

"Okay, here are the conditions." With her spear in her right hand and the necklace around her throat, she stood in front of him, out in the forrest. With much luck, they were capable to sneak right out of the palace. Nobody saw them - which was a miracle in itself. After all, during this time, the whole palace was buzzing with life.

"We can use both of our djinn equips. Lighting and wind. For me, Marbas and Valac, and for you Baal and Focalor. You can switch your djinn equip at any point of the battle. If you use any of your other five djinn equips, this battle will be cancelled and victory is mine." She rose an eyebrowe. "With your seven djinns, I'm at a quiet disadvantage. You must'n use your full power - that also means no extreme magic." She crossed her arm over her belly. "We don't want Sindria to get destroyed."

"Fine by me." His hands were at his hips. His grin bright. "We can start."

"Alright." A deep breath was taken. She hasn't fought for months.

 _"Spirit of desire and wellcare, I command thee and thy. Use my Magoi as your source to empower my will with your power! Come, forth!"_ The gentle breeze turned into a storm, blocking her vision. The star on her necklace shone brightly. " **Valac**!"

It was a moment of power. She could feel Valac's warm embrache over her arms, shoulders, chest. Her djinn was standing next to her. And although she couldn't see her, it was a moment of reassurance.

The wind broke apart and she opened her eyes. She could see everyting in a different light right now. Her husband was standing in front of her, holding up his right wrist. "As beautiful as always, my queen."

She was - her brown hair fell in curls down her back, a golden band was tight around her head, her eyes a sprakling green. A green tunic covered her chest, reaching her navel. Garments in a deeper green covered her legs. Golden anklets were glittering in a shimmering tone.

She rolled her eyes and dove high into the air. The golden light and wind covered his form and in the next moment, he was flying opposite from her. The smile was bright on her face. "Who will do the first move?"

"Ladies first." He bowed shortly, enchanting as always.

"Charming, aren't you." With one swift turn, she was in front of him, holding out her bare hands, directly at his face. His eyes widened, got smaller at the very same second and she was thrown back. The wind was pressing against her back, through her hair and into her chest. A smile was present on her face, getting closer to the deep, glittering sea. She counted - one second, two seconds, three seconds - when Layla teared her eyes open, the power on her fingertips transmuting into a form. _"Vala nasim."_ The words were quietly spoken from her lips, coming easily from her tongue. Her finger touched the ocean's surface, letting the water slide up in small fountains. With every passing moment, they became longer, thinner and - the most important - sharper.

Like fingers, they were reaching out to him. Layla looked upwards, watching her lover forming winds in his palms, holding it against all the water arms that tried to touch him. Her fingers were pressed against the water surface, letting more and more come. The water got restless, obeying her command and following the wind's orders. But, one blinking later, she eyed Sinbad coming closer to her. Gasping, she let go of the water and dogdged upwards. The water fingers dissolved into splashes, hitting the surface, letting her armless. Her heart beat became elavated, strong against her rib cage.

She was alive. She was truly alive.

"Nice try, Layla." In an instand, he was in front of her, his hand against her chest. "But I'm afraid not nice enough." With one push, she fell into the water. The blue liquid eneveloping her like a strong hand trying to crush her. She pressed her mouth together, laying her hand on the golden necklace. Valac held her hands. Falling down, she rose her arms, her palms wide open. She scrunched her nose. A silent prayer was spoken. _"Vala iiesar!"_

The breeze turned into a storm. Masses of the blue liquid shot upwards, bulding a maelstrom. As quick as she could, she swom upwards, flying from the surface. Hiding herself in the masses, she dug forward, toward the king's candidate who was watching the wall with curiousity and expectance. _"Vala nasim!",_ she called, building the power in her fingertips once again and she reached forward, coming closer to the skin of her husband. She was only an inch away, nearly feeling the warmth he emitted.

"Not so fast, Layla." He was flying behind her, taking her wrist. Her eyes widened, her breath hitched. Her body was close to a shock, comparable to an ice-statue. His face was close to hear ear, his warm breath fawning over her skin. "I won't let you do that."

"You're not even close to hold our agreement upright, Sinbad." She struggeld with her wrist, trying to free it from his grip. She cursed under her breath, moving her arm over and over again. His arm snuck around her waist. "You won't escape this quickly, dearest."

Normaller, she loved that man. But in this moment, she hated him more then she loved him.

"Oh damn!," she screamed. _"Vala nasim!"_ In his grip, her index finger touched his skin lightly and he let her free, being knocked back. She watched him over her shoulder, realizing it was her chance to sneak away. If she was fast enough, she could get away and grab her spear. His body halted in mid-air and the penny has dropped.

She had to hurry.

As quick as lighting, she launched forward, hovering over the piece of forest. Her eyes scanned through them as quick as Marbas' lightning, when she spotted the familiar spear, lying on the ground. She dropped it, letting it fall while taking on her djinn equip. Her eyes were set on the silver metal, reaching for it. She unequipped herself, falling like a stone on the earth. Pain ripped through her legs; gulping, she shut her eyes tightly.

Maybe she was taking this whole thing to serious - but even in a fight against her own husband, she wouldn't slack off. A fight was a fight, after all.

Her hand gripped the staff, pulling it to her chest. She looked upwards, following the moving figure of her husband. His feet met the earth. "You seem pretty off, Layla." His deep chuckle caused goosebumps on her skin. "What's wrong? Out of form?"

She hissed. "I'm no such talented warrior as you are, Sinbad." She rubbed her ankles. "I will never be." She rose slowly, ignoring the damage that she brought herself. "But you know, I'm fine with it. You are top - if my powers are accepted and acknowledged by a man like you, I have nothing to complain about. After all," She smiled lightly and a second thing he could only call as arching, "You are a man who stands high above me. I will never be able to reach you - you will always be one step ahead of me. I will never be able to catch up to you."

The dark nuance made him frown.

She rose slowly, standing straight. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and titled her head. "And that is fine by me." She rose her spear. _"Spirit of fury and lie, I command thee and thy, use my magoi as your source to realize my will and dream. Come forth, Marbas!"_

Layla didn't know why - her feeling was comparable to drowning. The weapon in her hand became warm, nearly hot, but it didn't hurt. The light bolts of lighting weren't tingling or prickling, they were hurting her. Marbas wanted to tell her something. But she didn't know what, she couldn't understand.

Her heart was bound into a ponytail, her eyelashes grew longer. The light blue dress hugged her waist tightly, falling loosely till her legs. Her hands were calloused, but so cold. Her heart beat was erattic.

She rose, her spear tight in her hand. Fury and lie...

She wasn't the only one who changed his equip. Baal, spirit of heroes and wrath. The one who started this wave of djinn users. But his gaze was exceptional serious. In a fight, he knew he was stronger - so it was a tendency of him to smile wickedly and charming. But his gaze on her was a cold fire - burning bright and still as cold as ice. "Layla..." He spoke her name tenderly.

She felt the cold and black hand on her shoulder, squeezing her harshly.

"Come on, let's get this to an end." She smiled.

She was tired.

Once again, the brown haired queen rose high into the air, looking at her husband. The power was slowly leaving her - why was she so tired? She didn't understand. There were times in which she could fight longer - much, much longer - but in this situation, it wasn't possible.

But why?

She brought the tip of the spearblade close to her lips. "Let's go, Marbas." Her whisper was quietly spoken, nearly chanted. _"Marba alrraed."_

Thunder and lightning crackled up above them, black clouds covering the bright blue sky. Thunder and lighting were flowing through her veins like a calm river. She looked at Sinbad, who rose together with her. The serious gaze didn't leave her face. She breathed in and out deeply, her breath shaking.

"Let's bring it to an end."

Everything was so fast.

She knew that the lighting she send through her magoi wasn't enough to harm him - he accepted it with his own sword, absorbing it. So he could make his final move to end this duel.

" _Bararaq_."

He could control his power. He would never harm her...

 **right?**

The lighting hit her - her spear absorbed so much that she wouldn't get any grave injuries from this attack. But she was tired - so very tired. A smile was playing on her lips. She was high in the air.

And in the next second, she lost every ground under her feet and just let herself fall. Layla tightened the grip around her weapon and wind was hitting against her back and face, bringing her hair in an unruly position. She felt so weighless - without any burden. In this moment, falling from the sky, she felt like a simple woman.

Without any burdens, without any harsh truths and without any lingering black presence behind her back. They were all gone.

She was caught by two strong arms, making her falling stop. She didn't open her eyes, her lips but remained in a blissfull smile. The scalls of his djinn equip weren't even uncomfortable. She felt the power in his arms, in his very figure. Soon, she felt firm ground under her back and head.

She felt at bliss.

* * *

"That was a strange way to spend an anniversary."

"It was your idea, don't forget it."

A deep chuckle resonated in his chest, hitting her back and heart. "I know, I know." His arms were around her waist. "I'm content with sitting here. It isn't that bad."

"When do you think the others will notice that we are absent?"

"Probably in-"

"Sinbad! Layla!"

She started to giggle, a hand covering her mouth. "Speaking of the devil."

Her husband rose himself behind her back, she was content with sitting on the ground. Her legs hurt. She was tired. She didn't want to rise. "Ja'far." A warm smile was played on her lips.

"What are you two doing out here?" The white haired vizier looked at them both in desperation, anger dominating his features. "We were able to see the light of your djinn equipps. What were you thinking about fighting each other?"

No answer was given. They stayed silent. "Could you give me an answer to my question?! Why were you two fighting with your djinn equips?!" The white haired man pointed a finger at Sinbad. "By now I'm used to the crazy ideas you have Sinbad, so I shouldn't be surprised that you have the idea to use your own djinn equips against your own wife!" His hands were at his hips. "But Layla! You are the reasonable part of you two. I've never thought that you would agree to such a battle! What got into your minds?!"

"It is nothing you possibly think of, Ja'far." She spoke softly. "Sinbad and I were having a little bet in which we fought against each other!"

"That's even better! Because of a bet, our king and queen are fighting?!" His voice was becoming even worse. "What was the sense of this whole bet? Could you please tell me this?!"

Sinbad tried to talk to him. Her green eyes were locked on the sight of her husband, talking to the conunsellor. Sweat was forming on his forehead, while the pale face of Ja'far grew redder and redder. Her voice died down, watching the two of them.

Layla didn't know why - but she felt oddly at peace. Watching the two of them, her head grew heavier and her eyelids dropped. She let it fall against the tree and a last breath was taken.

Everything became dark.

* * *

The cracking of a fire was the first sound she heard.

Layla felt warm and cozy, soft fabric was lain over her shoulders. Color flooded her vision and a yawn escaped her mouth. The young woman rose slowly, her face taken away from the pillow. Her eyes were heavy, dark shades appaerent under her eyes. She felt a tingling sensation in her fingers, but a deep and drowning tiredness in her limps.

Rising her head, the young queen looked around the room. She was in her chamber, tucked under a blanket. Bandages were bound around her arms and her legs, probably because of the colliding with the ground when she fell. From the window, she could hear small murmurings and fainting, golden light.

For how long was she asleep?

She swung her legs over the bed's edge, her feet touching the cold floor. A small sting of pain shot through her legs, a quiet wincing escaping her lips. With a hand at her temple, she rose to her ground, walking forward. From the chair that stood in front of the mirror, she grabbed the big piece of cloth and threw it around her shoulders. She didn't want to go around the castle in just a thin dress.

That would be more than a little bit uncomfortable.

She closed the door behind her, looking around the floors. No servants, no maidens and no guards. Did something happen or why did everyone vanish?

Layla tiptoed through the halls, but there were no people. Nobody seems present.

What happened?

After a couple of minutes of walking like a ghost through the palace - noticing it was just evening - she reached the door to her husband's office. After a quiet knock, she opened the door and peered inside. And the sight brought her to smile.

Sinbad, conquerer of the seven seas and master of seven djinns - besides the founder of a kingdom - slept peacefully with light snoring. His arms were fold on the surface, his head finding a comfortable pillow. Papers and documents were scattered, the container filled with ink opened and the feather laying beside it.

From the amount of clothes he still wore, Layla could guess that he only fell asleep a couple of minutes ago.

With a sigh, she got closer to him, standing next to his sitting positon. With her hands, she tucked the loose strands of his purple hair out of his face, putting them behind his ear. She pressed a kiss to his temple. "Even the great Sinbad seems to be awfully lazy today."

She rose again, putting her hands on his shoulders, tenderly shaking him. "Sinbad," she whispered, "rise and shine. If you want to sleep, sleep in a bed."

Silent mumbling was audible. He turned his face away from her and his shoulders stiffened. "How is he able to sleep in such a uncomfortable position?"

...

Well, after eigtheen years of sleeping in a tent without a real bed, she was one to talk.

Suddenly, a knocking sounded through the room. She grabbed the ends of the cloth around her shoulders and tightened it. "Come in."

The door opened and - whoever would have thought - the white haired vizir stepped into the room. He took one step and stood still, frozen. A groan escaped his lips. "Is this really happening?"

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Is something wrong, Ja'far?"

He looked at her, his green eyes looking at her in desperation. "This man is really horrible. There are so many scenarios that I've counted within and of course, the only one I didn't think about happens."

"What is the matter, Ja'far?" She didn't like his tone. What happened?

Another sigh. "We eight generals prepared a feast for the celebration for your first wedding anniversary."

At this, her blinking was similar to an owl. "You did what?"

"Sharrkan and Pisti had the idea." He spoke, his arms hidden in his sleeves. "They said that they want to give you a," he slightly coughes, "great celebration like the one you gave us when you two married."

She stayed quiet. After a couple of seconds, she put a hand on her mouth and a muffled chuckle escaped her lips. It took much to prevent herself to burst into laughter. "Especially if you think about it that Sharrkan had never been that drunk as on that day. He's probably hoping to get that much alocohol once again."

"That is most likely to assume."

She stood straight, her green eyes not leaving vizir's same colored gaze. "Thank you, Ja'far." A smile was appearent on her lips. "I appreciate the thought and I am grateful. But you see", she put a hand on her husband's right shoulder, "it is most likely impossible that he wakes up."

"I see." A heavy and heart wrenching sigh escaped his lips. "Then I guess I will consult the others about it. You know nothing about it." The vizir shortly bowed, turning around and leaving a grinning queen behind his back. "This is a surprise celebration for you, after all."

He left the office and his steps echoed throughout the hallway.

With a smile on her face, she sat on the desk, content by watching her husband sleep. A hand of Layla drove through his hair, twirling one of his strands around her finger. It was so peaceful, so wonderful. Has it already been one year since their weddings? Or two?

That was another story to tell.

While watching the island going outside the window, she heard quiet groaning and moaning. A chuckle escaped her lips and she shook her head, already laughing about the efforts that everyone would make in order to keep the surprise hidden from Sinbad. And she wouldn't be able to clean the smug grin of her face.

That would be awesome.

"Layla?"

The brown haired monarch turned her head to the right and looked right into the golden hues of her husband. With her smile still present, she carressed his cheek with her finger. "Good morning, my king." She titled her head. "Or should I rather say good evening?"

"What time is it?"

"Close to sunfall, Sin."

He streched his arms and yawned, his headpiece laying on the big wooden desk with his purple hair in disarray. He looked at her with sleepy eyes. "I guess the fight did exhaust you as well." She pulled her leg close to her chest and resting her cheek on her knee. "Seems I am a quiet capable warrior after all."

He didn't respond at all. He rather surprised her one again. He took her hands and with one pull, she sat on his lap, his arms on her waist, her head on his chest.

"Sin-"

"Good night, my queen." He yawned once again.

They would wake up during the night. They would be scolded by Ja'far during the next day. They would hear Pisti's excited voice and listen to her pleas in order to tell her about their fight.

But would that really stop her from falling asleep?

She closed her eyes. "Good night, my king."

Fighting against each other, negotiating with other countries and falling asleep. They all did these things together.

As king and queen.

* * *

 _ **...There can be miracles...when you believe.** _

Whoops. Has it been 5 months since the last update? And although it lay on my pc the whole time? My time Management is really superb. I love it.

I promise, there will be the next chapter in 2017. Since I'm stuck in my bed right now since I'm doomed with a cold, I have much, _**very much** _ time to listed to Pentatonix and Focus on my writing. And in the end I'm stuck with playing League of Legends again.

But there will be chapter 6 before the 1st January 2018, I promise. (Although many People have spoken the same words as I do now I'm still waiting for another chapters. Yay.)

For you to know: the choice for chapter 7 was a draw. So chapter 7 will be _Layla's relationship to Erol,_ since it adds to chapter 6 and I can finally write about Layla's backstory. The other two ( _Proposal and upcoming years_ and _the announcment of their relationship)_ will be a chapter when I'm not motivated to write other ones, since I've got both Scenario pretty much in my head.

As a present for you, I give you the oppurtunity to send me an idea. Any Scenario is possible (as Long as I can imagine it somewhat). Be it from the beginning of their relationship to the end or any funny, tragic or just sweet stuff, send me your idea and I will do my best to turn this into an oneshot you will like.

Btw, I've just recently gotted the idea to write some rated M Content in a seperate Story so this can stay T Content and everyone can read this. Leave it in the Reviews if you would be interested and I will Think of something.

Now then, I will continue listening "God rest ye merry gentlemen" by Pentatonix before being killed by my coughing. Yay.

See you in 2017 and don't Forget to Review. They make me happy and Keep me motivated. ^^


	6. Chapter 6

I don't own Magi.

* * *

 ** **Chapter 6: Legacy****

 **I**. **Duty**

 _What was the first thought that crossed his head?_

Father. Even the word was abnormally odd to him. Although he should be happy about it.

Sinbad, king of Sindria and the ruler of the seven seas, looked with careful and observant gaze on his wife. The beautiful woman with the long brown hair sat on an armchair in the middle of their chamber. A book lay on her lap, her soft and tender fingers holding it loosely. She snored softly, her chest rising and falling gently. Her lips were an inch apart, showing only a glimpse of her white teeth.

This picture wasn't unusual. In the night, she was often plagued by nightmares, so she took a nap during the afternoon. But there was one little thing that changed the whole picture.

The small bump, which was filled with a new life to come.

He came closer to her, falling on his knees beside her. He looked from the corner of his eyes to her expression, still asleep. His hand found her belly, resting on the soft skin that was hidden under the dark green dress she wore.

It just began to become noticeable. All the servants who already have children told them, that the baby will grow big and strong, just like its parents.

But did he want this? Did he want a child who bears the same strength he and Layla holds?

After all, strength means responsibilities. Strength holds the weigh of wisdom and courage. Strength included danger and enemies.

Did he want his child to get the strength like he and Layla? Does he want to see this little figure in Dungeons where he had to risk its life? He knew that he will have to stand up to Sinbad. But, in all honesty, that wasn't possible.

Sinbad conquered so many dungeons that even the almighty Djinns were assured that it was enough. He found one of the largest economy and merchant groups in the world. He conquered all the seven seas, built contracts with multiple kings and queens and he built a country out of nothing; though with help, but he was able to do it.

Fisherman's son to a king. That was very difficult to surpass.

Layla had to endure the duty to surpass her father. One of the strongest warriors the Yambala tribe had ever to offer; because of her blood, she was ought to follow her father's steps and become one of the three chiefs. She had the potential and talent and from the words the other two chiefs had spoken, Tiz and Azad, he could conclude that she was already seen as the new chief. And with everything that followed from her mother's side as well - being born from a strong willed and independent woman, who left her family behind to join the Yambala's - she had the duty to follow her parents. Even though she didn't need to.

Everything she ever wanted was a husband she loved and many children to feed, care and love.

Did he want his son to feel the same? The same feelings his mother had to go through? Did Sinbad want to hear his son say "I'm not good enough," just like his mother did?

A quiet sigh escaped his mouth, when he rose again and gathered the sleeping woman into his arms. He put her on the mattress, pulling the blanket over her form. She snuggled into the warm fabric and he could see her hands wander under the sheet. Her hands lay on her belly, warming the new life they created. A small smile was apparent on her lips.

Maybe the life of his child would change. He would accept him as good as he is able to do so.

He sat at the corner of the bed and followed his wife's hands, touching them through the blanket. She curled in a ball, her hair following her in soft passages.

The warmth will protect him from any duty that shouldn't be his. His child shall be free.

Free from any falling expectations.

* * *

 **II**. **Touch**

"Sinbad." Layla sighed softly, tiredly. "Could you hold him for me, please?"

Without any complaint, he joined her on the bed and took the small bundle of joy into his arms. The little bundle gurgled quietly, his arms waggling back and forth. The golden eyes were widely open, saliva on the right corner of his mouth. And when the little prince looked into the kings same-colored eyes, a smile widened on his lips and a tiny laugh escaped his throats.

To say it was the greatest joy to see a baby laugh is probably the greatest understatement ever made.

Layla put her back against the cushions, the blanket drawn up till her stomach. A smile was displayed on her lips. "He will become such a daddy's boy."

"I disagree." He held his finger to the white bundle and Erol reacted immediately – he grabbed it and began to chew on Sinbad's index finger. "He will become a mommy's boy. When you hold him, you can practically see him glow. Like he embraced the sun."

"You're wrong." A chuckle escaped her lips. "Whenever you're around, you can see him smile and laugh. I swear to god, if you're around, he unlearns how to cry and how to be stubborn. He becomes the perfect baby as soon as you're around him." She got closer to the two men – or man with the baby. "You're a great father, Sin. I'm glad I have you around." She kissed him on his cheek.

And when the king of Sindria spotted the thin, white line on her neck, Layla lay her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

A touch could heal every wound. But a touch could bring injuries that last a life time. Especially from a father.

He was different. And with every touch, Sinbad proves it.

* * *

 **III**. **Fly**

"Come on, Erol. Stand up. It really isn't difficult."

High pitched gurgling came as a response.

It was quiet an amusing picture. Pisti, the youngest and smallest member of the eight generals, bent down and took the hands of the young prince. His big golden eyes watched the young princess of Artemya, slowly standing up on his wobbly legs. His legs trembled and the young lady took tiny steps backwards, leading the small boy with her. And he followed suit - even though his eyes were locked on Pisti's grinning face, trying to imitate every move she made. "Ready?"

He still looked at her. And as soon as she let his hands go, he fell back, sitting on the grass and still looking up at her. A pout was visible on her face, her hands at her hips. "That's the sixth try, come on!"

"I think he may still be too young to learn to walk, Pisti," Spartos quietly commented, rising from the bench he was sitting on. Suddenly, a sweat drop formed on his temple. "And besides, you can be happy that her majesty isn't here, or you will have to endure the same fate like Sinbad when she calls him 'consort',"

He could see the youngest one shiver at the mere mention of his wife. A light chuckle escaped his lips, but turned into a blank expression as soon as he remembered the last time something happened with him - which happened only two days ago - but he couldn't stop sighing over the horrible fate that occurs as soon as Layla calls him her 'consort'.

How did he survive all those years where they weren't married?

"Ah, your majesty."

His sigh seemed to be heard. He stepped out into the gardens and was spotted by Pisti as well. She waved at him. "Hello Sin."

"Pisti." A smile was present on his face. "You're looking like you have fun."

A small giggle escaped her - a nervous one. "Please don't tell Layla or I will be roasted and fed to the horses." Her hands were folded into each other, the best puppy look she can offer displayed before him. "Please."

"Don't worry, I won't." A laugh escaped his throat, when he eyed his son. The small boy looked at him from the same position from a couple of seconds ago. Suddenly, his hands sought the legs of Pisti and with little fingers, he heaved himself up, standing on his legs.

The general looked at him bewildered. "Erol?"

And then it happened – the small boy took tiny steps, one by one. There were only three or four, but they existed. The king bent down and took hold of the little boy, slowly lifting him high into the air. His arms were stretched out, waving them like wings. "Papa," He cheered.

Why should he walk if he was able to fly?

* * *

 **IV. Silence**

He hated those moments.

"Akhdir."

"Sinbad."

The two men were standing face to face with each other. Their both faces were sober, no emotion clearly written. It was cold around them, winter has found a new place to take event in.

The soldiers and generals of Sindria were standing behind him, looking at him in slight fear. It happened every time the king and his father-in-law met. They looked at each other, spoke the usual greetings and after that, the queen takes over the talking and guided her father into the palace, holding polite conversation with him. After all, she still held deep connections to her home, visiting them every half year. He thanked the god regularly that the man with the green eyes visited him only once in one or two years.

A war was stopped, thanks to the king's wife. And to add...

"Grandpa."

A smile was displayed on the older man's lips, when he picked up the young boy, just two years old and held him close to his chest. The laugh that resonated out of the boy's throat brought a strange glow to his grandfather's face.

"Father." Layla stepped up next to her husband, looking at the man with a gentle distance, eying her little boy carefully. Her shoulders were stiff, his hands clenched at the mere sight of his father-in-law.

Silence was the only thing that was needed to be spoken.

For the boy's safety.

* * *

 **V. Rescue**

"You are trembling, Layla."

The brown haired woman locked her fingers in each other and put them down onto her lap. Her breath was slightly shaking, a tiny - relieved - smile on her lips. "Sorry. Just the stress."

His large hand found her head, softly stroking and twirling her hair. She immediately eased into his touch, leaning against his hand. "Be careful, alright? Don't risk to get any gray hair. It definitely wouldn't suit you." The playful tone didn't go unnoticed. She smacked him on the shoulder and the king didn't let the chance run away – he clasped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her over to him, snuggling her face into his chest. Her scent – flowers, dust and fire – crept into his nose, filling his senses with a strange feeling of peace.

"You are impossible." She let herself fall against his body, closing her eyes and her breath became a slow movement. "I'm just happy that I can stop trembling as soon as he is gone."

"Erol benefits from his visits." Even the king's voice lost in volume. "The amount of time he spends with you is probably double from normally. You don't let him leave your sight."

"Can you hold this against me?" Her breath became more shallow. "Erol shall be free. Without any weigh on his shoulders."

Nothing more needs to be said.

"Papa? Mama?"

Except the boy's voice that echoed through the room.

With a grin, Sinbad lay his index finger on his lips, motioning to the woman in his arms. Layla had her eyes closed, seemingly asleep. But it was their usual tactic to surprise and have fun with their little one.

Erol seemed to understand. He patted towards the furniture where both his parents sat. He climbed on the surface, sitting next to his father, leaning his head against his chest. His little finger poked his mom's cheek, that her nose. Soon, he poked her eyelids.

It took very much from Sinbad's side to hinder the bursting laughter.

"Mama?" He got himself from his father's figure and crawled to his mother, laying his hands next to the strong of his father. His face got closer to the tender features his mother hold. "You sleepy?"

He could almost feel the difficulty his wife holds to prevent laughing.

"Mama?" His fingers found her cheek once again. "Maaaama?" The prince's face got closer every second and soon, his face was only an inch apart.

Chaos erupted.

As fast as she could, her arms wounded themselves around the bony shoulders of her son, pulling him into her chest. A quiet cry was audible, driving his fingers into his mother's dress and pressing his lips into a thin line.

Both his parents, the king and queen, couldn't cease their laughter. A heavy weigh fell of their shoulders. Every moment they could laugh as a family banned the darkness step by step.

It was closest thing to rescue Sinbad could ever ask for.

* * *

 **VI. Forget**

When the boy was three, he couldn't stop but remembering the past.

Where had he been when he was three? Living with his father and mother in Partevia, poor. His father lost his leg, paying it as the price of being a soldier. After his return, they were dubbed as traitors. But his father was a brave man - he endured everything the villagers told him, caring for him and his mother.

Then, Daryus appeared. The man who told him stories and of the outside world. The first time he heard of something different than his village. He was fascinated by the man's blond hair, his stories and his attitude. He became someone dear to Sinbad.

The betrayal happened after this. It is, after all, one of the darkest days Sinbad ever had to face. The death of Reim's spy, the realization that nobody cared if he died. The feeling of emptiness which was present next to the deep sadness that resided inside his heart. The face of his mother and the actions of father let him remember this day as if wasn't nearly three decades ago, but only one day. His father left them to return to his life as a soldier.

His corpse was never found. A coffin was sent with his sword. Nothing more.

And although he held this sword in his hand, Baal's strength driving through his veins, lighting piercing his veins and burning his blood, it was a deep void. He rather gave all the treasures in the world to hold a proper funeral for his father. One, if not even the, bravest man he ever knew.

His father created his path for him to live. So he took the same duty.

Being in his djinn equip, he held the sword in his right hand and his son pressed against his chest with his left arm. The intruder lay in front of him, on the ground, covered in dirt and rain. Erol trembled in his arm, pressing his little body against his chest. Thick tears were falling from his eyes on his chin to meet the ground. His breath was shagging.

"Sinbad, Erol!"

Turning around, he saw Sindria's queen coming closer, behind her Masrur and Ja'far. Her eyes were widened, tears glistening in her eyes. "Thank god you're alright!"

"Mommy." His sniffles were quieter when his father put him into his mother's arms. His arms were snuck around her neck, pressing his tiny body against hers. Mother and son stood together in the rain.

Her husband, in opposite, looked with his two generals at the man laying on the ground. "Ja'far, please bring Erol and Layla into the palace. Masrur, consult the healers to check on my son's condition."

The white head and red head nodded shortly, following their master's command. When those four were gone, he sent the man on the ground a last look. "If you ever dare to approach and hurt my son once again, then be assured that you will feel the wrath of Sindria's king on your head."

He would never forget the feeling that drove through him when he was held by Daryus, the people sending him looks of pity but doing nothing to stop this crisis from happening.

In order to never forget it, he would never allow his son to go through the same.

From this night on, next to his wife and between them Erol, all the nightmares that haunted him from the day he was three years old, were gone.

* * *

 **VII. Void**

He knew this feeling of void. Emptiness. Since the birth of his child, he has been very sure to never feel it again.

Until this day.

"Sinbad, I can't accept this anymore." The woman he loved stood in front of him, he was sitting on an armchair in his office. His fingers were intervened, his elbows resting on the desk. "I know you just want the best for me and Erol, but this will risk his life."

The feeling of fulfillment began to leak out of his heart. It began with small drops.

"You know that we both are haunted. We are both chased by someone who is still out there. And this person will never quiet down until we both are death."

The puddle became bigger.

"When I married you, I was sure that this life will free us from this threat. But with the appearance of this man who tried to end our son's life, I lost my trust in this peace. Who knows how less time passes until he will hear of this situation and tries to realize the act the other man was unable to?"

Not only became the puddle bigger, but he could hear quiet shattering.

"I don't want my son to live through the same as I did. I want him to write a new story. We both lost our parents to power hungry fools who didn't even bat an eye to the crimes they committed. They took your father, they took my mother. I don't want him to live through the same story as we did, growing up as a half-orphan and blaming himself for his mother's death. Then, as much as it hurts me to say this, this will happen. This boy is too much like me to prevent this from happening."

Shards were falling on the ground.

"Sinbad, I don't want this to happen. I want to believe in you, in Ja'far, in every person who holds the title as a general. I want to believe that this worry is without any reason, but I can't stop."

The puddle was as big as the seven seas.

"You are always one step ahead of me, Sinbad. I don't need to be told that you have the power to protect us. I know that. But sometimes, even a normal human being can tip the scale and take this power from you. I can't risk that."

The light was erased.

"Forgive me, Sinbad."

Void had him captured.

And it never let him go again.

* * *

 **VIII. Guilt**

Erol's hand was warm, his was cold. The big golden eyes looked into the same colored. There were no tears on his face, no sadness. But something else that let his void rumor.

Realization and somberness.

Why was the world so cruel to give him and Layla the duty to harm this child in this way?

"Will I ever see you again, Papa?"

He put his forehead against Erol's. "Of course you will. Never forget me, okay?"

He nodded slowly. "Okay."

"And protect your mother from any harm. Protect her the best you can. Can you promise me this?"

His child lost the light.

"I will."

It was a dark day in Sindria's history. The departure of queen and prince and return to Layla's roots. Tears were falling, begs were spoken, but they fell on deaf ears.

Sinbad had to bear a guilt he would never be able to atone for.

The guilt of putting his son into the same position as he and Layla have been.

And maybe this was the most tragic thing.

* * *

 **IX. Home**

They see each other again. Fourteen years later.

It was a normal day for him in Sindria. Sinbad sat in his office, all the documents lying in front of him on the big wooden desk. Suddenly, a knock echoed through the room. "Please come in."

His right hand entered, his hands hidden in his sleeves. He stepped in front of the desk, looking into the golden eyes. And with shock, the king of Sindria had to realize something.

There were tears in Ja'far's eyes.

"There is someone who is asking for you presence. It is important and very urgent." He bowed shortly and when he rose his head, the tears were falling down his cheeks.

The king had a feeling in his gut. "Is it possible, that-"

"Yes, my king." He nodded shortly. "He is home."

Without any hesitation, Sinbad rose from his chair and left the office, leaving his right hand behind. His steps were quick, urgent, rapid. His eyes never left the way in front of him. He didn't hear. He didn't see.

Was it true? Was he really here?

He entered the palace gardens, stepping into the sun. And truly, the dream became reality.

A young man with short, brown hair and broad shoulders was held by Pisti, who was crying her eyes out. The other generals were standing behind her, with tears in their eyes. A small laugh escaped the young man's lips. "Really, miss Pisti, I-"

"Erol."

It has been fourteen years since he last spoke the name. Fourteen years.

The man rose his head and looked over his shoulders. And with one moment, Sinbad looked into the exact same eyes he also held.

His son has grown. Instead of his parent's, his hair was cut short. The shoulders became broad, muscles showing in arms and legs. He wore simple clothes, showing decency. The face was Layla's. That of his precious wife.

"Father."

The last time he called him, he was "Papa". He had never been "Father", just "Papa". Fourteen years did change so much.

It hurt. But right in this moment, it didn't matter.

"My son." Pisti let go of the seventeen years old man, stepping behind and bowing her head. Sinbad came closer to the young, standing right in front of him. A hand was lain on his right shoulder. "Welcome home." His flesh and blood.

The golden eyes were filled with tears and a sob ripped the father's heart apart. Within one second, he could feel the not thin, but strong arms, around his neck and not tiny, but tall body against his own. He placed a hand in his hair and he felt the quiet crying of his boy against himself. And so they stood there.

King and prince, friend and stranger, father and son, embracing each other, crying and reliving the feeling of being united.

The feeling of reaching home.

* * *

 **X. Lost and Gained**

"Mother is dead."

Father and son stood in front of the balcony, overlooking Sindria during the light of the day. After gaining distance between themselves and the general, wanting to have some time for themselves, Sinbad asked him: about his life, about the last years, about the Yambalas, about his training. And when the small talk has been done, Sindria's king asked his most dreadful question.

The status of his wife, the queen of Sindria. Layla's whereabouts.

The expression on his son's features changed with small gestures, but it was completely different. And he knew, that something was off.

With sober eyes and a deep frown implanted in his forehead, he looked at the kingdom that he was once supposed to inherit, to reign. And in that moment, Sinbad had to realize; this boy was his wife, just younger and male. But the expression in his eyes, the gestures, the tone of his voice.

Everything was so like her.

A lump sat in his throat. Somehow, and only the seven seas were able to know how, he knew that Layla didn't live anymore. One day, he felt like he lost his connection to her, every memory wasn't as lively, but only a silhouette. After fourteen years, that burning love has turned into little flame that hasn't been fed over the last decade and it shrunk and shrunk.

"Did..." How was he supposed to ask this? "What happened?"

"It was only a couple of weeks ago." The once glittering eyes have become a dull surface - like old gold, that hasn't been polished for too long. "She fell asleep and never woke up again. We've buried her and held a funeral in her honor. After that, I've taken the next ship and traveled here." He stood like a statue: he had to make sure he was still breathing. "I was with her when she fell asleep: she thanked me for being her son, for always staying with her. She thanked me for my life and apologized to me that she was such a cruel woman."

Cruel? Layla?

"I knew what she was pointing out. And I knew, that I'd lose her in this moment. She was tired, so tired and decided to take a little nap. Only a short while later, she didn't breathe anymore." He kneaded his fingers. A smile appeared on his lips, wavering and without any ground to stand on. "I know that she took me with her to protect me. I know about the person who tried to kill me, when I was three years old."

No lies could be spoken out. He knew the truth.

"I know that she left Sindria behind, because she wanted to protect me. I know she left this wonderful country behind, to give me the possibility to be a normal human being, away from every kind of threat. The Yambala are good people, who took care of me for the last fourteen years. And I'm thankful for them." The innocent young boy spoke out of him. "She left you behind, father." The same golden eyes met. "And I know that this was the hardest decision in her life."

Sinbad didn't want to comment on that. He would visit her grave, as soon as his son was ready to do so.

"Do you know about your grandfather, Erol? He-"

"I know about my grandpa, father. I know about the story and that he was one major reason why she was so anxious. I think, if he would have acted differently, then we wouldn't have been fourteen years apart."

No comment, be silent and let him talk.

"Mother was grateful for her memories. I'm pretty sure absolutely no day existed where she hasn't thought about you, father." Suddenly, a small smile popped on her face. "Did you know that she was once one step away from coming here?"

He perked up. "Is that so?"

"It was ten years ago. I got pretty sick, had fever and a cold and everything wonderful you can imagine for a kid. Mother got scared and even though the healers always insisted that I was going to be okay, that it was only temporary, I've once heard her speaking to Hosoya, where she was thinking about coming back here. So that the memory wouldn't fade. Of course, I knew that could never happen."

The king had to be honest: he was surprised about this fact. "You were three years old, Erol, when you left. Are you sure that you remember anything?"

"Yes, especially one thing." Somberness, sadness. "That rainy day, when that man tried to kill me."

A pierce was sent through his lung, cutting every possible connection to air. Why especially this horrible day? The beginning of the end?

"I remember that it rained and that I was sleeping. A man climbed through the window and took me by the collar, a dagger in his hand. But a servant came in and she started screaming; he took me outside and tried to drag me outside the palace grounds."

That was true; and as soon as he heard the scream coming from the Purple Leo Tower, Sinbad was on his heels and running towards his son's room, empty. Layla heard the about the situation and she ordered the guards to watch out for every person who wanted to leave the person, no matter which exit. Sinbad started to search and he heard his son's cries, screaming for his parent's and he felt Baal twitching under his fingers. He djinn-equipped, stroked down the man and saved his son.

"And by now, I know why he wanted to kill me. And I think you should know."

The king was put out of his thoughts. "What?"

"Harun is dead."

Three words. These three words were needed, to turn Layla's life into a good one and taking every nightmare she had to endure away.

"Is it true?"

"Mother killed him."

Layla killed him?

"When?"

"Shortly before her death. He was close to his end and I think he wanted to fulfill his life goal for once and for all. He found the Yambala, stroked down two men and was aiming for me. Mother stopped him." He began to shiver. "She pushed her spear for his head."

Her spear? Through his head? Absolutely nothing did make sense now. Who was this woman he was talking about? It couldn't be the woman he once loved, he married, who was gentle and kind and loving and all in all a great woman. He respected and loved her, adored and cherished her.

She knew about his manipulative side. And she accepted it, although she knew that she could never keep up with it. Oh, the irony. Sinbad realized, that there were sides he could never even imagined.

"She died one week later. I think that her thirst for revenge consumed her and she was content to fulfill her role in life, in stopping this man. She ensured me, that I was safe now and free, without chains. I'm a free man now."

He was so innocent. Even though his mother died, he didn't speak one ill word about her. And it was something, that reminded him of the brown haired Yambala princess.

Silence took place between them. Sinbad knew he had to visit the grave.

"I didn't go to the her burial." He cast his eyes to him. "I wanted to ask you, father, if you want to come with me."

And he did.

* * *

 **XI: Legacy**

The place where they confessed one's love to another became the place for her grave. Her spear has been hit into the ground, her golden necklace dangling around the silver blade. The stars were gone, the djinn found in another place he couldn't even wish to see.

Father and son stood side by side, next to the great river. The generals were waiting for him, ready to pay their own respect to their late queen.

"You've done a great job, Erol. I'm sure that she would be happy to know that you found this place."

"She told me the story about how you two confessed when I was thirteen." He was content, so very sad, but content. "I'm just happy that she can rest in peace now."

It was so very selfish of her, Sinbad thought. She left her son behind, who was so brave, strong, wise, but so innocent. In rare moments, Sinbad had the assumption he was still a child.

"Would you mind telling me more stories about mother, father? She never told me all of them."

Sinbad smiled. "Of course, my son."

"Thanks, papa."

And just he saw the little boy again; when he was still in his mothers belly, only a newborn, taking his first steps, speaking his first words, playing with him and being a happy kid.

When he thought about it, maybe he didn't have the duty to carry both his parent's strength.

 _It was enough if he took their legacy and turn it into his own._

* * *

I finally managed to upload the chapter. It's been a hard piece of work, but I'm happy that I've been able to upload it. I apologize for the absence and hope, that I will bring the next one, Layla's relationship with Erol, in a couple of days. I just stop making promises, that'd be the best.

If you have any other suggestions or ideas for oneshots, then write me a message or a review. Until now, I have one about interactions between Layla and the eight generals and I will be very glad to write it. Thank you sweetpye for your idea. Thank you for the many favorites and follwings, it makes me happy to see that my writing is entertaining a good number of you.

See you until the next chapter. Read and review please, it's a great motivation for me to continue this. And I'm always happy to hear your opinion.


	7. Chapter 7

I don't own Magi or Xenoblade Chronicles 2.

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Freedom**

 **I. Touch**

Layla didn't think about it when she felt sick. Okay, it happened from time to time, that she couldn't eat anything, or just throw up. But during the past days, it became so frequent, that even Masrur started to show concern. And Sindria's queen knew, that the concern of the Fanalis was needed, when it was something important.

So she got herself checked and Yamuraiha was standing in front of her with a bright beam on her face and sparkling eyes. "Congratulations, Layla, you're having a baby."

In the first second, she didn't know what to say. Of course, the chance of getting pregnant was very high, since their intercourse was very regular and enjoyed on both sides. But pregnant? Seriously? That was no joke.

"Of course not. Do you think I would joke about something like that?"

Layla wasn't sure: was she happy? Surprised? Or just so baffled that she couldn't believe it?

On the same evening, she told her husband. His eyes lit up and he was just as baffled as her, but in a good way. "This is marvelous." He took her into his arms and spun her around, his laughter contagious. She joined in his laughter and as soon as he kissed her and lay his hand on her stomach, she knew it was probably the best thing in the world.

When she was two months away from the birth, Layla couldn't help but groan and shut her eyes together. It was a strong child, having the tendency to kick her in the stomach without any remorse. She wondered: would it be a boy or a girl? A strong girl like her mother or a charming boy like his father? Or even the other way around? A young girl who whose list of potential husbands was as big as Sinbad's strength?

A sigh escaped her lips, her face being pulled together in an uncomfortable way. Her little baby kicked again. And how much he actually did that. It was close to evening; wonderful, an owl instead of lark, like her. Her husband shot her a look. "Are you alright?"

"He's up, that's all and has probably your strength." Another kick, the heavy weight on her stomach made it difficult to sit up. "I swear, he will kick his way out of my body and into life."

Sinbad snorted a laugh. "That would be an interesting sight." But hey lay his hand on her belly and felt the raw power from the baby. And when silence overcame them, he snatched her right wrist and joined his hand with hers. Both their parent's hands were on their mother's belly and Layla felt the harmony that was between the three of them. They were a family and one touch alone was enough, to make look forward to it.

* * *

 **II. Lost**

After Erol's birth, a message has been written and she asked Pisti to bring this to her tribe and father. On her bird, the general flew off and returned a couple of days later, with a reply. He'd come as soon as it was possible for him to visit his beloved grandson.

Two weeks later, he arrived with a ship and was greeted by some palace guards. According to a guard she recently asked, his face betrayed that of awkwardness. She had to hold back a laugh - Akhdir wasn't a man who you could call a typical queen's father. He didn't like the attention and left the palace as sneaky as always; no goodbye, no farewell, he just left and she knew he returned to her tribe.

She was just done breast feeding her son: full and satisfied, he looked around with these big golden eyes of his, pulling his arms close to his chest, Layla heard voices outside the nursery. "She is alright; the birth was exhausting, but she managed just fine."

"That is relieving to hear."

A knock echoed through the room. "Come in," she spoke.

The door opened and her husband and father entered the nursery, both eye pairs of them on her form. She softly rocked her son and a smile was put upon her lips, when she saw one of three Yambala leaders. "Father, it's good to see you."

"Likewise, Layla." His eyes found the newborn in her arms and this glance he wore the last time he visited them, which was six months ago, vanished. Layla knew why. She could already predict it, although it was rationally impossible.

Erol's face resembled hers when she was just a newborn baby. And this face brought memories he wanted to push away, to forget.

Standing up, she put her son into his grandfather's arms. Sinbad stood to her right, putting a hand on her left shoulder. He pulled her into his side and she felt his heartbeat on her skin. For preparation, Layla often went into the city and spoke to mothers, asking them how they felt about birth, how they prepared. The queen cherished the advice from all healers, but preferred practice over theory and spoke to women who already gave birth. She had to know how to prepare herself mentally. And she asked about reaction in the family.

So many women told warmly, that their parents were ecstatic to have their grandchildren in their arms for the first time. They were happy and proud and just...well, happy. But her own father wasn't.

It seems like, whoever ruled this world or her fate, her son was destined to look like his mother. Too look like the woman Akdhir has lost.

Something broke between and both Layla and Akdhir felt that. Their relationship, which has been dominated by mutual understanding and rare hatred, cut of and was destroyed, once and for all.

He placed her son back into her arms and she felt the weight of the world inside them, on her skin. Those big, golden eyes looked at her with curious stare and she laughed quietly. He was a prince, bright, intelligent, optimistic.

Akdhir left the same day, going back to the tribe, without saying one word.

Standing on the balcony with her son, she saw the ship leaving the port. And for a moment, she had the feeling that their same colored eyes met in a second, just to realize that it was an illusion.

Pressing a kiss on her little boy's head, Layla made a vow.

That she'd never lose her relationship to her own flesh and blood.

* * *

 **III. Fly**

She visited her mother's grave to the twentieth anniversary of her death. She was accompanied by Hosoya and Danyal, her two of her three household vessels, and Hinahoho, who understood the pain of someone's mother; he watched it at his children when Rurumu died years ago. It was a sad, but hopeful visit: she told her beloved mother about her son, about the birth, about her husband. The last time visited was ten years ago, just shortly before her departure with Sinbad. She didn't know why, but it needed to be done.

And when she exited the ship, thanking the captain and entering the palace gates, her eyes widened about a tenfold. Whenever she was gone, her son was on someone's shoulders to greet her, reaching out to her with his tiny arms. The last time, it was Ja'far. Although the counselor was obviously embarrassed, he was used to take care of young children. And for the child of his best friend and his wife, he made an exception.

But this time, he walked towards her, without any help. She could see her husband a couple of meters behind, Pisti and Spartos by his side. And when Layla bent down and held her Erol on her hip, he beamed at her and pulled her neck towards him, pressing his cheek against hers. "Mama, mama."

He learned how to walk. She heard his first words to be spoken, which was a gibberish 'mama', shortly before he fell asleep. A couple of weeks later, 'papa' followed, spoken like an admirer of a great hero. He cheered his father on, who was challenged to a duel by Sharrkan. And because he didn't want to get rusty, which was, by the way, impossible, he accepted. While they dueled with their swords, clashing metal was the only sound which dominated the space around them, until they got to an end. And from a sudden thing, he spoke the word 'papa'. Sinbad lost every cool and looked at him baffled. Although this was an amusing sight, the best thing was, when he spoke his third word.

'Jaja' and promptly he pointed to the white haired vizir, who stood still in his movement. The big smile that was on the prince's lips could sooth every cold heart and Ja'far was as red as a fresh and full tomato.

And now he took his first steps. How quickly he grew.

"Mama."

He looked into her green eyes, one of the few things she inherited from her own father, with his own golden, the most beautiful trait he took from the king. And suddenly, without any warning, he pressed a thick and wet kiss against her cheek, burying his face against her neck and closing his eyes. Seconds later, she felt his chest rising and falling. He fell asleep.

Just like that.

When was the last time she could do something like that in her father's arms? Right, never. Although it was a matter of course, it wasn't for her. Her son trusted her, loved her. Layla knew that, but on the other hand, she didn't. It was just like a revelation, something she had to learn.

With her son in her arms, she entered her home, the palace of Sindria and faced her husband, her love. And in that moment, Layla walked on clouds and was as free as a bird.

* * *

 **IV. Silence**

Sometimes, Layla stood at the balcony and overlooked the city. It gave her a sense of peace and serenity. She felt in harmony, like nothing could actually put her out of this calmness. She wanted to be alone, nobody had the permission to trouble her. Leaning over the compound, she felt her brown hair sway in the fine breeze. In her hands, she held a piece of parchment, with ink written a report from Danyal. 'Harun has been sighted on a ship, which is coming towards Sindria. I managed to change the course, but he has his sight set on you.'

That bastard. That crap-eating, evil, devilish bastard. Even after thirty years, he still had the same goal as before. Destroy her and her family, seeing the blood flow and the light fading out of her eyes. He wouldn't dare to get close to Sinbad, he knew the strength the high king of the seven seas held. But he knew her weak point. And he knew that she had a son, who had the same face as his mother, the same face of her. And that was the problem.

The circle of hatred and bloodshed continued. And there was no escape. Layla looked up to the horizon, the sun has already disappeared, stars glittering on the firmament. Like the stars, this hatred couldn't be reached. The whole purpose was supposed to be unsolvable. And he aged old enough to put this conflict upon her son's head. Oh, how she loathed him. How she wanted to rip his head of his neck, wanting to see the blood flowing out of his mouth, the light fading out of his eyes-

"Mama?"

Like a small rabbit, she shrieked, turning around. Her son stood there in the shadow, stepping into the moonlight. He was close to his third birthday and her father decided to visit for this occasion. "Erol, what's wrong? Can't you sleep?"

His shoulders trembled, shaking his head. He didn't open his mouth, just staring into her eyes. Sinbad was gone, over in Artemya to discuss the further discourse and treatment of the Kou Empire. "Erol, darling." She stuffed the parchment into the fabric belt and left her position, crouching in front of him. Reaching out her arms for him, Layla smiled at her son. "What's wrong?"

He ran into her arms, snuggling into the fabric of her dress. She caressed his dark brown hair, which was cut short and curly. Another trait he inherited from that woman. "Did you have a bad dream?"

He stayed silent, but answered her question by nodding. "Mama... I'm scared."

"Scared? But of what? Nothing is gonna happen to you."

Stop lying about that, Layla, seemed a voice in her head, her best friend, to say. You know something is going to happen and it is nearly impossible to prevent that from happening.

"Big monster.", he mumbled and she knew that talking was pointless. Whenever a nightmare occurred, he just climbed into his parent's bed, between them and nestled down into the side of his papa. That's where he felt safe and protected. And when Sinbad put his arms around his son and pulled him into his chest, Layla had the feeling that he felt the same kind of sentiment she had when he was in her place. The beginning, when they spent their first night together, he pulled her into his side, her chin on his chest and she knew she was protected from every threat that lingered on the horizon.

With her son in her arms, she rose and walked to the balcony once again. The breeze was touching her hair. _"When will our prayers be hard, high up in the sky above."_ It was his usual lullaby she sung for him. Although she wasn't a good singer and only hummed from time to time, she knew that a little song could soothe a child's fears. At least that was the fact, when her mother and Mona were still alive. _"Soon fate will show us the place where we belong."_

Inside this silence, Layla was sure that the madness was approaching fast and without any possible mercy.

* * *

 **V. Guilt**

He stroked again. And she was powerless. Twenty-four years ago? Powerless! Every year on the same day for ten years? Powerless! Fourteen years ago? Powerless!

 _Today?_

 **Powerless!**

"Your son doesn't have any physical injury, your majesty." Yamuraiha stood in front of her, pulling her hands back after she checked the little boy on her lap, wet and scared of his life. As soon as he had the unspoken permission, he threw himself in his mother's arms and buried his face into her neck, his little shoulders shaking and trembling. "You should dry him up and put him into bed, or he'll catch a cold."

"Thank you, Yamuraiha. Truly." Rising from her position, her green eyes were set on the small head of brown hair. "I'll do just that." Her attention was put on the counselor. "Ja'far, please, do me a favor."

"Of course, your majesty."

"Could you write a message to queen Artemina? According to Raziel's last letter, she has been taking errands in Artemya. Ask her to find her and send her here. I have to talk to her."

He bowed. "Of course."

"Thank you. And you have my gratitude, Yamuraiha." She sighed quietly. "I think it would be best if we all retire for now. It's been an exhausting night."

The deep weigh that pulled down her heart laughed at her gloatingly.

She retired, dried of her son and gave him warm milk to drink. Even without asking him, she heaved him up and brought him into the chamber of herself and her husband. When she opened the door, he was at the window, turning around as soon as he heard the sound. His eyes were tired, bags apparent under his eyes. And Layla was confident that she looked exactly the same.

"Is he alright?"

"No injuries. Everything seems to be okay."

Okay? The black hand was once again on her shoulder. Are you kidding me? Okay?!

"We can be happy that it wasn't himself who tried to infiltrate the palace. Or else..."

Erol could be still alive. But he probably would have taken the eyes and one arm. Or he would have killed him entirely.

"We should get some rest now."

Despite knowing how tense her shoulders were, she didn't let them fall. But she joined her husband in bed, putting her little prince between them. He drew the blankets over them, grabbed her hand and closed his eyes. He tried to get some sleep.

She followed him. But he succeeded, she failed. Moreover, Layla knew that sleep was impossible to achieve. She lay awake, feeling the constant rising and falling of her men's chests. She felt it; an unseen weight sat on the edge of the bed, bending over and taking her upper arm. _You know it_ , it seems to speak. She could only assume. _You know what you have to do._

And yes, she knew. And it was her fault, that it even came this far.

* * *

 **VI. Void**

One week later, all three of them - Hosoya, Danyal and Raziel - stood in her office, without any word to speak. "Are you completely out of your mind, Layla? You can't do this."

She knew Hosoya since she was a newborn baby, has seen her taking her first steps and heard her first words. Layla was spectator of her first professional dance and was grateful for her presence. And her tendency to speak her mind clearly didn't leave her. "I mean, this is your life here. You can't just leave it, seriously!"

"I agree with Hosoya, your majesty." The only man between of the three, a traveling merchant, married, with four healthy children, looked at her in shock. "Are you sure you want to do this? It took you years to build this life and you want to throw it away?"

"My son's safety has top priority, way more than my own happiness. And yes, it took me more than ten years to stand here as the person I am, but it won't change my decision."

"Layla." Raziel, the last one to join her household vessels, was normally quiet and shy. "Erol can be protected. The generals will do their best to protect him."

"That's right, they are capable. For the living hell, we three will move here and start protecting him as well, we'll be your servants, no matter what happens. There are enough bars and taverns who accept dancers as their entertainment."

"I have no objection. My family can move here and Sindria is always open for new merchants."

It stirred her heart. Those three people, who agreed to follow her without hesitation and trust, were ready to throw away their dreams and passions in order to help her. Layla realized that it was the right decision to trust them.

"Thank you, but no." Her green eyes were focused on the light blue of Hosoya. "You're a dancer, Hosoya. You're not made to stay in one place for too long. Your life doesn't belong to a certain place, you need freedom. You should be able to walk out of a country without anyone protesting, because that's who you are. I can't put this burden on your shoulders, that you become a normal dancer who always performs in front of the same people. You need variety, new men who propose to you and try to bind you to them. You need handsome men with whom you can flirt and try to chase, just that you realize that a normal life is nothing for you."

Hosoya stayed quiet, but tears spring into her eyes.

"Danyal." Brown eyes this time, mixed with gray. "You're a merchant. You need the possibility to travel to foreign places. The same places with the same goods? That's boring and doesn't suit. Do you think the Sindria trading company would have come far if they stayed in Reim and didn't leave? They sought out new business partners, were always on journeys to Sasan, Artemya, to the tribe of the Imuchakk, Parteivia, Balbadd. You are one of the best and successful independent merchants, Danyal, and I can't be the one to risk this all."

And finally, the red eyes of Raziel. "You are a mercenary, Raziel. You need the adventure to take all kind of requests. And your people haven't known freedom for so long; I don't want to put you in a position where you have to stay."

The three of them looked at her with sad eyes; they knew the outcome. It was inevitable.

"You three are no people to stay in one place. I don't want to take your freedom from you. It is the last thing I want."

"Why aren't you trusting the palace guards? The generals? There has to be another solution for this, your majesty."

Layla would claim that she knew herself. She had known herself for thirty-one years and could predict the outcome. "If I demand the constant guarding of my son, it would only make every paranoid. My son shall grow up in an environment where he doesn't have to worry about going outside into the city. And Harun is patient; he has been patient for more than thirty years. I think he wouldn't mind if he'd wait for another twenty. And that would destroy not only my life or that of my son, but also my marriage." She breathed out, shaken. "And I don't want to risk this."

Nobody of these three tried to say one word. "Then what is the reason, why you sent us here?"

Raziel always had a very keen eye on these things. "I want to say farewell."

Shortly before midnight, she entered her chamber and saw her husband sitting in an armchair. Gold met green and absolutely no word needed to be said. They fell into each others arms into pure bliss and closed their eyes.

On the next morning, as soon as Sindria disappeared from the horizon, she pressed a kiss on her son's temple. From this point on, Layla knew that she was only a shadow of herself. Nothing continued to exist.

Nothing.

* * *

 **VII. Home**

Her father was the one to greet her as soon as she reached the village.

He got old, she realized. His hair turned gray, deep wrinkles present on his face, especially on his forehead. They symbolized an always lingering sadness, affecting the corners of his mouth. He was still strong, still an imposing man to be seen, but he lost his pride. Time seemed to run out of his fingers. And when she looked at him, she knew she'd end the same way he would. Thirsty for revenge, filled with blood lust and without any peace. Torn apart by malevolence. He didn't remember what love is: he lost two members of his family and he's stuck with a daughter like her.

All the tears for him were shed. Her gaze was cold, her heartbeat slow.

"Layla." He didn't hug her, just looked at her with those pathetic green eyes of his. "It's good to see you."

It'd be even better if you were dead. If that was his thought, or intention, or his wish, nobody could tell. "Likewise, father."

He motioned her to enter the village and she received words of condolence and sympathy, people were staring at her with sad eyes. They decided to throw a banquet for her, to welcome her back and to greet her son; son of the Yambala.

Layla decided to scratch the word 'Sindria' out of her memory. She wouldn't need it anymore.

A tent was prepared for her and Erol and she sat on the dusty ground, her son next to her. Instead of other times, he insisted on walking. So they got off the ship on the port and they walked together all the way to the Yambala. He was courageous, determined, intelligent, optimistic.

He was her son. And it was painful to know.

In the evening, the celebration took place and a great fire was lit. Dancing, eating, holding conversation, laughing. It seemed like a normal celebration from the Yamabala. And she was happy to know that. Erol laughed for the first time in weeks, after some older girls, maybe nine or ten years old, asked him if he wanted to dance. He looked with those innocent eyes at her and she allowed him, because there was no reason why he shouldn't. And while she watched him dance with those girls, the only boy in a group of four girls, he laughed. He made the others laugh why he tried to dance like a professional: the same movements Hosoya made while she performed once during a Maharajan. And he was good - he was graceful, rickety and uncertain on his feet, but he managed to be good.

But the joy was interrupted when she felt the ice cold presence of her father. He sat next to her. "You did the right thing."

He was the first one to say this. "I don't know."

"Don't doubt your decision. If he's coming here, then this will be our chance to strike."

He never considered the loss for his grandson. He didn't even think about the lost memories that he could never have with his father or his many godfathers and godmothers. That country lost its prince and as long as this man wasn't dead, he'd never go back.

He had patience. Harun had much patience.

"You-"

She wanted to say something against Akhdir, but decided against it. Layla didn't have any right: she was selfish, she dragged her son into this mess. And there was no escape. The decision has been made.

When the Yambala retired, she followed with Erol, who slept like a log. He was drenched in sweat, from all the dancing he did on the evening. When she put him into blankets and made sure that he wasn't cold, she looked up into the sky and got reminded of the day over twenty years ago. Bleeding, with tears running down her cheeks and a throbbing pain on her neck, she looked into the cleared sky and into the moon. And she asked herself: why.

 _Welcome home, Layla._

* * *

 **VIII. Duty**

When Erol was seven, he caught a big cold. He awakened with heavy breathing in the morning and refused to eat anything. His coughing got worse and when he went to his mother and put his head on her lap, Layla knew that he was sick. She let him lie down and asked the three leaders to delay their departure, until her son is healthy again. They gave her the okay and she was the whole day by his side. She watched over him.

The healer, one of the elders, checked him and assured that it was nothing out of the ordinary, that every child caught a cold like this. There is no need for her to worry about his condition. Just a couple of days to rest and he was as healthy and vital as always.

But there was no chance to stop the voices in her head. _You failed, you destroyed it, you couldn't protect him. He. Will. DIE!_

"Mom?" Sewing the holes in his pants was forgotten, when Layla heard him speak. Erol's locks were wet, sweaty and he was pale. And that was so surreal, since he had the bronze complexion of his father.

"How are you feeling, Erol? Do you want to drink something?" She bend over him, checked his temperature and asserted that it was cooler than the last time. A good sign.

"Mom, can you tell me something about father?"

Layla did her best to mention his father from time to time. It wasn't right if Erol forgot him because of her. "Of course, Erol. What do you want to hear?"

Just in that moment, Hosoya entered the tent, carrying a bowl of fresh water in her hands. She smiled a little and turned her attention to switch the two bowls. She left them their privacy. "How was father?"

Hosoya twitched, she clash d against the wood with her fingers. Silently cursing to herself, she continued with her task.

"Your father was the bravest man I ever got to know."

"Even braver than grandpa?"

He didn't know. And she'd only tell him if he were old enough.

"Braver than every man on this man. He faced many dangers and never hesitated to face them. There was absolutely nothing that could frighten your father; he was determined, strong, optimistic about the outcome. He had a big dream, one which the majority considered madness, but he turned his back on them and realized it. And especially", she bent down and whispered in his ear, "do you want to know what made him the bravest man in history?"

He shook his head, eager to know the answer.

"He asked your grandpa to marry me."

Erol loved his grandfather and admired him, respected him. But he also knew that he was grouchy and grumpy. He burst out into giggles and he imagined his grandfather's face.

She continued to tell him the tales about him and five minutes later, he was softly snoring in his cocoon of blankets. She tucked the strands out of his face and watched him. He was an angel; an angel he didn't deserve.

"He's amazing, isn't he?"

One of her household vessels took place next to her. Her light blue eyes were cast upon the peaceful face of one son of the Yambala. "He still remembers them all, doesn't he?"

"He does."

The look of pity hurt. "Layla, I know it's none of my business, but why aren't you taking him back? Maybe Harun is dead and we don't know it."

The sound of that name sent a shiver down her spine. "I've already thought about it. But I can't."

There is no going back. She can't. And as long as he didn't have both of his parents, it was her duty to take care of it.

* * *

 **IX. Rescue**

On the thirtieth anniversary of her mother's death, Layla sat patiently in her tent, her spear on her lap, caressing the golden star on the silver blade. It was a quiet morning, fog spreading over the lands. Damp air filled her environment, sending shivers down everyone's spines. And she waited. And waited. For the same procedure every year since she returned.

Her son was still sleeping, twelve years old and slowly mirroring his mother's features and habit. He was sometimes very shy, liked to stay in known surroundings and rarely helped to get provisions. He preferred learning how to use the spear, just like his mother did.

And then, Renka, the youngest and newest chief of the Yambala, stormed into her tent and looked at her with wide eyes. "Layla, you have to come, immediately!"

She followed, unsure what to think. And then she saw his face.

Distorted by pain and anger, sadness and void. He seemed to be in a shock state, his green eyes wide open, haunting her with the same look he shot her years ago. For the moment, past seemed to be present: violence, hatred, rejection, everything seemed to be inside those dead, green eyes.

Her father was dead. Akhdir was dead, the Yambala lost one of three leaders. She sent Renka to fetch the third one. And while they were gone, she lay a hand on her fathers arm and felt the icy cold skin.

What irony. Her mother died in the flames, her father in the cold.

The three of them discussed the outcome: he was dead, they were going to burn and cast the ashes over the grave of his dead wife. The successor should be discussed after the funeral.

Erol cried, a lot. He cried in her arms, not leaving her side and forgetting everything else. She told him the good stories of his grandfather, how courageous and free he was, independent and headstrong, willful and straight forward. She told him of his brave and reckless quest to achieve the heart of his grandmother, a noble's daughter of Reim, who decided to leave her family behind and entering the unknown. How he raised his daughters and how he protected them from every evil being that approached them.

Until he turned out to be one of these evil things.

The other one's were forgotten, not fit inside the atmosphere that was contained with sadness. It took her another four years to tell him the real story of her father and what happened between him and his mother. She didn't defend him, but just told the story like an objective spectator. It didn't change the love he held for his beloved grandpa.

One night before the funeral, she knelled right next to him and closed her eyes. _"Suddenly a gleam of dawn. Can you feel the power of the faith? Our native land, here we stand as one..."_

The old song her mother used to sing and that she inherited from her, humming it to Erol when he couldn't sleep.

The wonderful memory of her mother rescued her from becoming a mad monster.

* * *

 **X. Forget**

"Now, I can finally forget you." Those were the last words she spoke, before she pierced the top of his head with her spear. The tip of the blade came out of his chin.

Erol sat on the other side of the tent, looking at her with those wide, golden eyes and abruptly, he was the son of Sinbad, prince of Sindria. The words she banned from her head reappeared, came back and she knew.

He can go home now.

Her breaths were heavy, his blood on her face. Her now short hair was pointing into all directions. Now being forty five, Layla had seen many things in the journey of her life. Erol, being seventeen, had his mouth wide open. The disbelief on his face broke her heart, but her soul was wide awake and screamed in joy. It was over. It was finally over.

The black hand disappeared and left her alone, assured that she'd never come back.

She collapsed, fell on her knees and her hands were set upon her thighs. Her chest was heaving, breathing heavily, but peacefully. She saw his corpse on the ground and she heard the feet coming closer to her tent. And when they entered, Erol's lover with them, who immediately fell into his chest and put her arms around his neck, they all asked the same question. "What happened?! Are you two okay?"

Okay? This was the understatement of the year. This was not only okay, but magnificent. Marvelous. Wonder-full. Not describable. Hatred, nearly forty years filled with hatred and revenge and everything is over. This game of survival, of eat or being eaten, is over. Harun is dead. The man who destroyed the sanity of her father, who ended the life of her mother and Mona, who aimed for her son and brought her to leave her husband behind, is dead. Dead. Never will he be able to take one more breath. Because there was no need. No air would fill his lungs again, no poison would be caught while he breathed out. He was finally put into the sleep that she deserved, that Layla needed. Everything came back now.

The night of fire when she was nothing but a child. The constant pain and blood. The fear, the anxiety. Everything. It just stopped to exist. It vanished. Escaped her fingertips. And she was never happier about it.

She found her son by her side, he put a strong and calloused hand on her shoulder. "Mama?"

Mama. He hasn't called her that in ages. Just like he unlearned to call Sinbad 'Papa'. Sinbad. Finally, Erol could return home.

And when she looked into those golden eyes, she knew.

Layla could forget the pain.

And this was the beginning of the end.

* * *

 **XI. Freedom**

She was tired. So tired. It was shortly before sun fall and the warmth that was present during the last couple of days turned into a comfortable breeze. She sat on a chair, having her spear on her lap. Her necklace was in her hand; the stars burned brightly, but the gold started to flicker. It became weaker. She became weaker.

"Mother?"

She rose her eyes and watched her son wearing boots, one of his good pants and a very good looking tunic. "I'm going out." Right, since they were in Reim right now, Erol decided to visit one of the bars with his beloved young woman. "Do you need anything? Shall I go and get something for you?"

He was so handsome. From the little boy that she used to carry around on her arms, who said 'Mama', got tricked by his parents by pretending that she was asleep, who was a papa's boy, who greeted her with his first steps, who loved his grandpa so much, who said 'Jaja' as his third word, who was rarely sick, who asked her to tell him stories about his father.

She leaned against the fabric behind her and smiled. "Erol?" His name was a melody in her head and she remembered how she held him for the first time in her arms. Warm, light, but as heavy as the weight of the world. He fitted perfectly into the crook of her elbow to her wrist. He was little, too little in the average. But he was beautiful.

And he kept that beauty. He turned out to be a handsome young man, bright, intelligent, optimistic. A warrior, a hero, a prince, a king. She imagined him wearing the Sindrian Crown, right beside his father. The young lady he decided to court next to him, as his queen. During a Maharajan.

But, Layla realized with a tired smile, that wasn't her decision to make anymore. Now, it's the boy's time.

"Erol?"

"Yes, mother?"

"Thank you for being my son. Thank you for staying with me always."

A smile was on his lips and he bent forward, took her hands. "Thank you for being my mother."

Her limps became heavier. "I'm sorry for being such a cruel mother."

He shook his head. "You never were. You always did your best to look out for me. And we will go back to Sindria and look after father."

"Thank you for your life." She lay her hand above his and closed her eyes slowly. "I'm taking a nap, Erol."

"Of course, mother."

 _Her son, so little and fragile, was shortly before falling asleep. Putting him in his cradle, she caressed his brown hair. "Mama..."_

"Good night, Erol."

"Good night."

 _And true freedom welcomed her._

* * *

Two minor things.

First is this an AU Story, because I haven't read the manga yet (I know to the Point where the Anime Ends). So I hope it is understandable.

Second: The lyrics for this lullaby Layla spoke of were some lines of "Shadows of the Lowland" from Xenoblade Chronicles 2. I love this song and it helped me to write these two oneshots.

So the whole relationship thing is done now. Hope I could entertain some of you witht these two oneshots. I'd be really curious to hear your opinion about Layla, since she is an original character and I'm really unsure what to say. During the middle of this I had the feeling that it really sounded like some strange cliche drama, but at the end, it was really fun to write.

The next one will be Sinbad's proposal and the upcoming years.

The newest one I had, besides the interactions with the generals, was some conversation with our main cast (Aladdin, Alibaba, Morgiana and Hakuryuu). With that, I'd take the freedom and would introduce her three household vessels. If you are interested, please let me know.

Thank you starrat for your review. But to be honest, I'm not really sure what you meant with crying: the good kind of crying or the one where I have to hide because my writing is so bad?

If you have any wishes or suggestions for oneshots (it can also be the craziest situations between the king and his flower girl) you can send it to me and I'll look what I can do.

Please review and tell me what you think: exaggerated? Okay? Or just horrible?

Thank you for reading this oneshot, I appreciate it.


	8. Chapter 8

**I don't own Magi.**

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Dancing and Dreaming**

 _ _Dance_._

When did this strange and so unfamiliar thought cross his mind? Sinbad was a womanizer, he loved women from all his heart and soul. And why shouldn't he? They were

the esthetic gender, beautiful, graceful, wonderful. And there was absolutely no woman who wasn't lovely in his sight.

So why did this thought occur to him now?

"Do you like the party, Sinbad?"

A young male voice interrupted this strange train of thoughts and took his attention from the dancing woman on the stage. Aaron, one of his lover's best friends, took

a seat next to him. "Cheers!", he cheered and took a big mouthful of his wine. His dark eyes were set onto his profile and followed his gaze, a grin appearing on his

lips. "I have to admit, Sinbad, that you are a lucky man."

Though to his facial expression, he had to shoot the grin back. "I'm honored to hear you say that."

"I seriously don't want to know how many of our young warriors are getting their knives out and prepare for one last stunt on you." He kept his cup close to his lips.

"Layla was one of Yambala's greatest treasures and thanks to her father, she was nearly impossible to obtain. Congratulation for that."

The traveling merchant just grinned like the boy who was head over heels for the young warrior princess and continued to watch her dancing on the earth. She was

graceful, the cheers becoming louder, the music becoming even more distinctive. A transparent veil covered her mouth, he saw the sweat forming on her forehead and the

smile on her lips. She was enjoying this, she was happy.

"So, what is your next objective on your list?"

Aaron was always interested in him, curious to hear the different stories and experiences that Sinbad was able to make. His favorite was still the battle of survival

in the Artemya's death valley. "Do you have any idea what you're doing next?"

"Getting back to trading, being a merchant. Trying to get new trade routes. There are still some kings left that I haven't visited."

"It's interesting. I'm sure that Layla will be of great help to you. Many kings and nobles know her, so it shouldn't be a problem for you to get the connections you

need." A sigh escaped the younger's lips. "But it's hard to comprehend that she leaves us. Thought that she'd be the one to take over her father's role."

He remembered her face: drenched in tears and buried in the crook of his neck. Normally, expectations were a topic that could be discussed, but not in that case.

"I've known her since we were both little children. I always had the feeling that she was one step ahead of me. There was never even a chance so that I could follow

her. You know what I mean?"

Until now, he only had that feeling once. But he could only guess the vague motion. "I think so."

"I mean, she's beautiful, smart and strong. And scary." Both couldn't contain their shudder. "She's a lucky girl to have someone like you."

"Thank you, Aaron. I appreciate it." Slowly shaking his head, he recalled his confrontation with one of the three tribe leaders. And he knew that Akhdir was one step away from killing him. "After her father's reaction, I'm glad to know that he seemed to be the only one thinking that."

"Don't worry, we all got you covered. If there is any problem between you two and you need advice on Layla's personality quirks, just say the word and we'll support you the best we can."

"Thanks, Aaron."

The people began to cheer and applause, she stood with her naked foot on the ground and bowed shortly. From this distance, he could see an elegant view on her cleavage, when she rose and curtsy, making the audience laugh. She left the spotlight to two young men, who demonstrated their abilities with the sword by demonstrating a graceful way of dueling.

"Well then, I think I should take my leave. We'll see each other tomorrow morning." Aaron winked at him, shortly waved at his best friend and let her sit on his place. She was exhausted, but sparkled with such an intensity that it nearly blinded him. She still wore the veil, the corners of her lips rising. "Hey, mister broody." She crossed her legs, showing off this soft skin of hers in the dulled light. "What are you thinking about? You're not drinking all our alcohol away."

"Haha." He rose his cup and took another gulp, smashing it on the table and already reaching for the still full bottle filled with wine. And while he kept refilling his cup, he heard a soft groan beside him. She took down the veil and kept a hand on the golden necklace. She sighed deeply. "It's hard to believe that I'm leaving the Yambala tomorrow."

"Do you regret your decision?"

"I..." She seemed to hesitate, but shook her heard. "Sorry. Of course I don't. I know why I do it." She reached out for his hand and grabbed it with a strong grip, but also soft. How could someone like her just exist?

"I do it, because I have the feeling that this something between us can have a future."

Future. That was the one thing he couldn't quiet fit into his string of thoughts. The wonderful word with the 'f' seemed like a strange movement on the horizon, but not one he'd dislike. "And I'm happy. I'm really happy when I'm with you, Sinbad."

He returned her grip and their fingers intervened. And he felt her magoi on her skin, the golden light engulfing their hands. And she smiled at him like the sun. "I'm looking forward to what the future will bring."

And he couldn't say how right she was.

"Is your father in sight right now?"

She wiggled her eyebrows, bit her bottom lip and tried to scan the area around her, trying to look for the tall man who nearly had the idea to kill him. "I don't see him. Possible that he's already sleeping."

"Sleeping? Seriously?"

"Father was never a party person. When we were celebrating, he only stayed when my mom forced him to do so." She shrugged, the hint of sadness escaping as quick as it arrived. "I wouldn't be surprised if he decided to retire right now."

"Or that is only a trick." He leaned forward, bringing their faces close. "Maybe he is trying to fool us into hiding himself. You can't tell."

She sighed, once again. "Sin, don't tell me you still think about that incident where he threw you off the cliff because you slacked of for a second?" She shrugged. "Father is a strict teacher. You have been warned since the beginning."

"There were worms inside my clothes, Layla. Worms!" His face was so strangely expressed, that she couldn't help but laugh. She lay her forehead against his and smiled at him. "Don't be like that, father isn't that bad."

"He is, he's trying to get my head if he catches us this evening."

She bit her bottom lip. "Then let's do our best to not get ourselves caught." She stood up and reached out with her hand. "Come on, let's take a walk. I need some fresh air." Although they were in free nature, the fire, wine and sweat made the air stuffy and bad to breath. "Let's go to the river."

And the unspoken meaning behind her words were more than obvious to him. And he could never say no to that face.

"As my lady commands." He denied her hand, bowing lightly and offering her his hand. And, being the warrior that she is, she laughed with a quiet voice and accepted his hand, intervening his fingers. But, there was one disadvantage. The people were not drunk enough, it wasn't that late and they were the stars of the evening.

"How about we see a kiss?"

The shout came from five meters distance; the son of of their doctor was already completely red in the face and he would have one horrible morning to endure. But the atmosphere was light and relaxed, and so, many Yambalas joined their request. They chanted: "Kiss, kiss, kiss."

They were working in sync. They both started to smile, she put her arms around his neck, his hands on her hips and drew their lips together. Cries of joy and Whistling echoed from all possible sides.

Maybe that was the moment when Sinbad thought about a future. A real future together.

* * *

The second time was significantly later, four years later.

After spending fours years in a relationship, they were a team. A duo, a force to be reckoned with. His business partners accepted her as his lover and approved of her, respecting her in different ways. She grew as a woman, but he noticed many little traits that may be seen as negative. She refused to give any big advice: she kept her business out of others. She was stubborn, refused to listen to him sometimes and much reason was needed to speak to her. But on the other hand, she was gentle and kind, patient, especially with children and babies. By looking at her, he got the feeling that she wouldn't be that bad as a mother.

And, another fact that wasn't the worst to add: she was gorgeous. As a teen, she was beautiful; as a young woman, a young grown-up, he could consider himself to be one of the luckiest men alive. And he got reminded of that every time he lay his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side and watching the expectant eyes of watchers vanish as soon as she touched her in such a familiar way. She was so great and he loved it to show off.

During the middle of the night, he sat in his office and checked all the figures that were involved in the Sindria Trading Company. A knock interrupted his thoughts. "Come in."

The doorknob was opened with clumsy fingers and his lover entered the room, two mugs in her hands and a bottle of wine in the crook of her elbow. With her bare foot, she kicked the door closed. "Sin. Still working?"

Rubbing his eyes, he leaned back, his hands rubbing his eyes. "How late is it?"

"Everyone already retired to sleep. I'm surprised to find you here." Putting the two cups on his

wooden desks, she opened the bottle and poured both of them a gracious portion of wine into the golden mugs. "Soon, your goal will be fulfilled. Just a little bit."

She passed him his cup and accepted it with a smile, jolting glasses. While he set the cup to his lips, she pulled herself on the surface and crossed her bare legs, only the hem of her nightgown covering the mid of her thighs. She joined his silence, slowly drinking the wine and staring out into the night. The dark sky was covered in stars, the sea hitting softly against the close port. A light breeze stroked their faces, letting them cool down from the heat of the day.

From the corner of his eye, he looked at her profile: the sharp face, the big green eyes, the full lips, the long, brown hair, which has been cut to her cleavage, framing her face like a painting. Her long eyelashes, which cast a shadow over her cheeks. And on top of that, the white lines across her neck. Every time he took a look on them, his grip tightened unknowingly.

"What are you thinking about?"

Her eyes were on him, noticing his stare. She tucked a strand behind her ear, showing how sharp they actually were. He shook his head and took another sip. "Nothing special."

"You're lying, I can see it on your face." She grabbed his free hand and put her cup on the desk. "Tell me. What's bothering you?"

The way she held his hand, how she looked at him, the concern and worry. He remembered the celebration of their departure, the moment she joined him on his journey to become a king. How she danced on stage, her graceful movements, who turned out even more fluid during the years of traveling and practicing. The other men looked at her in awe and during the last couple of years, he learned that she preferred to stay in the background, leaving him to his followers and admirers. After dancing, she had the tendency to return immediately to their group, hiding herself in his right arm and his side. She wasn't shy, but didn't like it to be the center of attention.

Like so many times before, his head posed the same question: how was it possible that he met a human like her?

"Sin?"

"Let's take a walk." He stood up and took her wrist, dragging her softly from her seat and to his door. "It's a beautiful night."

"Walk-? Give me a moment, I have to change!"

"Don't worry about it, nobody is out there."

"Sin!"

"Come one."

She had her arms wrapped around his right arm and they walked side by side, along the soft waves. A big piece of fabric covered her shoulders, her feet naked like most of the time. Her eyes were set on his profile and he noticed the curious stare she sent him. "What?"

"What is it, Sin? Is something wrong?"

Damn, he didn't expect her to remain worried. She put pressure on his arms and put his walking to a stop. They stood in the moonlight, no one was around them. The ships were a breathtaking sight to hold in.

He sighed quietly and scratched his head. Well, now was the best time he could ask her.

"Layla, I want to ask you something."

She pulled her arms back and the warmth was immediately missing. "Sure, what is it?"

"Do you remember what you said in Valac's dungeon? When she asked you about your wish?"

From zero to hero, her face turned into a full and unhealthy red. Her cheeks blushed into the colors of freshly picked strawberries. "Of course, I remember. How could I not?" Layla titled her head. "What about that?"

"I..." Sinbad avoided his gaze on her and directed it to the sky above him. For a moment, it felt like she was miles away, not reachable. Was this question stupid?

But the picture of her dancing popped into his head, and he knew, it was the right decision.

"Do you still have that dream or did it change?"

She gulped, seemed shocked for a second, until she lay a hand on her head and scratched her temple. She flushed even deeper, crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Answer my question, first."

"You-" She groaned of exasperation and put her hands against her face. Slowly, she let her hands fall and avoided his gaze, directed her eyes to the sea. "It is."

Looking at him once more. "So, why do you want to know?"

Now or never. "Did I ever appear as part in that dream of yours?"

He knew what he wanted to say. And he did.

"What do you mean?"

He saw the fear flashing on her face. But as soon as Sinbad started something, he wouldn't back

down. Never. And that was a promise he made years ago. "You understood my question."

"I..." She shook her head and dug her fingers deeper into the fabric covering her shoulders. "Technically, yes, I understand what you asked me, but..."

"But?"

"What are you implying?" Her green eyes were widened, her pupil dominating her eyes. "Sinbad, what do you want?"

She understood, but didn't get what he meant. With lifted shoulders, he took the remaining strides towards her, covering the distance. He grabbed her hands. "Layla, daughter of Akhdir and warrior princess of the Yambala." His golden eyes were set on her green ones.

"Will you do the honor of marrying me?"

A wave clashed against the shore.

Her shoulders began to tremble and she replied the pressure on his hand. "I don't know what to say..."

"What you think you should say."

He has never been so vulnerable before. He lay down his armor and bared himself to her. Time went by so slow; they probably stood on their spot for one minute, but it felt like an eternity, one year, two years. Why did she wait?

Did she never consider it? Did she never think about their relationship in that way? Not even in the slightest?

They were an unusual couple, rarely seen. They've been together for nearly five years and the word 'marriage' never has been even dropped. And he could consider that a miracle, since even none of their friends have taken that word into their mouth. Even when they've made a jokes about the two of them.

Yet, he was sure that it was the right question. He just needed to wait for her answer.

"Well?" He was frightened how his voice sounded. "What do you say?"

Instead of saying a word, she fled into his arms and buried her nose into his chest. Digging her fingers into his back, he could see the trembling of her shoulders. And the alarm popped up into the merchant's head. This was no good sign. "Layla?"

"I'm sorry, Sinbad." She distanced from his chest and he felt a pressure on his chest that became unbearable. She hesitated for the moment, wiped away the tears on her face and shook her head, punched her cheek for a moment and finally looked into his eyes.

Sinbad recognized the feel she held and he didn't expect it to see it on her features in that moment. "Not yet."

The words put all the remaining air out of his lungs.

"I can imagine myself getting married to you. And I really love that picture of me being your wife." This time now, she grabbed his hands and looked into his golden eyes. "But..."

Guess he never saw that one coming.

"But not now. Not in the close future. Just give me some time, until I feel sure that I can give you the vow of loving you for eternity with the knowledge that I really mean it."

What kind of answer was that? Was it a yes with time, or a maybe, or _what_?

"I don't-"

"It's a yes, I want to marry you, Sinbad." She looked to the side, but with his hand on her cheek, he directed her back to him.

"But?"

"Not now. In two years, in three. Give me time, please. I want my vow to be true. And I know that I'm unsure."

It seemed fair and he had his answer. But there was just one catch. "What if you change your mind in these two years?"

She seemed to have waited for this answer. She smiled at him. "I'm not opposed to the idea of marriage and I will gladly do so. But Sin." She took his face in both her hands and he felt the warmth under her fingertips. "Do you think we need vows to make sure that this connection remains?"

She learned from him. Sinbad couldn't conclude if that was a good or a bad thing.

"I want to stay by your side." Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight. "That is all I need."

* * *

And Sinbad received his yes. Just in a different way he envisioned.

"Heart breaker of the seven seas."

The title Sinbad held, and may be charmed in another world. But in his world, they meant only one thing: trouble. And Masrur just spoke those words. That was not good.

 **Definitely not.**

He looked up to Ja'far, sweat drops forming on his forehead. "Tell me that is nothing but a bad joke."

"I'm afraid not, your majesty." As king of Sindria, his right hand spoke to him in a respectful way. "This lady complained about your behavior. She described it as _'even more obvious than a man can be_.'"

"This is not possible!" He stood up as fast as he could and stared him in enraged despair. "I'd never act on a woman who is ten years older than me!"

"You shouldn't even use the word 'act', Sin." The white-haired vizier sighed. "And may I remind you that you even tried to flirt with Artemya's queen and she is twenty years older than both of us."

"That was even before I met Layla! Stop turning my words against me, Ja'far." His breathing paced up. "Okay, there is nothing to be concerned about. I didn't do anything so I should be okay, right?"

"I wouldn't be so sure. I could believe there is the possibility that you actually did something."

He didn't know what to say. "Ja'far-"

"I've already seen what you did when you were drunk, Sin. You lose every sense of moral and every ability to hold yourself back. I wouldn't be surprised if you were able to sleep with a princess on a diplomatic mission."

"That is absolutely not true!" He directed his eyes on Spartos. "Spartos, at least you believe, right?"

"I wish I could, your majesty. But it's always the same. Do you know how many women were already here, complaining about your sense of modesty? They are all saying the same."

"I am loyal and I've never acted with a woman behind Layla's back-"

Layla. _Oh god._

As soon as the name of his lover has been spoken, the face of Ja'far turned into a deep shadow, the expression of fear appeared on Sparto's face and Masrur...looked at him the same way as always. "This is not good."

"You don't say, Ja'far." He let himself fall on his chair again. "What shall I do if she finds out?"

"It's not like she isn't already used to this."

"Masrur!"

"You should tell her. Or else, you can be sure that you die."

"I'm dying somehow or other, Ja'far!" He rubbed his temples, pondering. "Okay, I calm down and I'll act like nothing happened. I didn't do anything, so I'm out of the woods, right?"

"I'd propose that you shouldn't keep it a secret. Or else-"

The voice of the white haired man has been interrupted, when furious steps were audible. And a beseeching voice. "No, Layla, don't worry about it! I'm sure that everything is alright."

"I do not care right now, Sharrkan!"

Death got closer. With every step and every word that resonated from the outside, his end got closer. And it hasn't even been two years when he was king of Sindria! "I have to go."

And before he could even a motion to plan his plan of escape, he already heard a knock. "Sinbad? Can I come in? I have to talk to you about something?"

He looked at his counselor. "I'm not here, Ja'far. I've never been here and you haven't seen me for hours. Is that clear?" He pressed his right hand close to his chest and he felt the magic going through his veins. In a second, he turned into his full djinn equip of Vocalor and opened the window behind him.

"Sin, you can't mean this seriously-"

"I have to, or else I'm going to have more than one problem coming at me." And with any other motion, he escaped through the window and with a flash of wind, left the three generals behind him. Ja'far looked at the window in shock, not quiet believing what his king hast just done. He knew about his tendencies, but that was really the icing on the cake.

"Sinbad, I know you're in there."

Great, and of course he had to be the one to carry the can. Wonderful. Just wonderful.

"Layla-"

"Shut up, Sharrkan." With force, the door has been opened and he saw his king's lover with an expression that drove the ice into his veins. He has already seen her with expression that could make a man's blood boil or freeze, but that was a whole other class.

It took her merely seconds: she saw the scattered documents, the baffled expression on Ja'far, the fear on Spartos and the indifference of Masrur. She looked at no one in particular. "He didn't."

She looked at Ja'far (of course that did happen) and rose her eyebrows. "Where is he?" She hissed and passed the three generals and stood at the window, looking to the left and right. "This bastard-"

"My lady." She wasn't the queen but the bets were already running when they would finally pop the question. "Please, calm down. I can explain-"

"Thank you for your kindness, Ja'far." And he knew she meant it. "But I'd rather hear about this case from my lover."

That was natural. So he gulped and said: "Of course."

"That he'd go this far to dodge me. Wait, Sin, this is going to have consequences." She lay her hand on her necklace, turned into her own djinn equip and stood on the window frame. "Ja'far, if I'm not back in two hours, I'll ask you to welcome Raziel."

He bowed. "Of course."

And she was gone.

All four of them were staring the window. The counselor put a hand on his face and groaned. "Oh great. This is going to be wonderful!"

"I tried." Spartos, Ja'far and Masrur discovered Sharkkan, the picture of misery lying on the floor. He whimpered. "I tried everything, but nothing worked." He seemed to have been the spectator of her first burst and Ja'far, Hinahoho, Masrur and Drakon knew how she acted. And it was traumatizing for everyone uninvolved.

"What shall we do?" Spartos directed his eyes to Sinbad's right hand.

"Pray that he'll make it out alive."

And that was the only thing they could do at this point.

* * *

The minutes passed by and she reequipped herself multiple times, to check the forest, the city, all different areas he could possibly be. She asked around: has somebody seen the king? And all of the people shook their heads and replied 'No', nobody saw him. But they noticed her gloomy atmosphere and offered her new fruits they were able to obtain. The children waved at her.

She thanked them properly, ate the fruits and continued to search for him.

This was ridiculous. There were often such incidents and he always told her about it, although he feared her reaction. And when he told her that it couldn't be true, that he stayed loyal to her and would never think of cheating on her, she saw the truth lingering in his eyes.

But this time, Sinbad escaped and ran away. How obvious could it get? When he cheated on her, it would be better to tell her the truth. Running away only made it worse. If he didn't do anything this time, why did he run away? The only explanation was that he really did cheat on her and didn't want her to find out.

If that was the case, then he'd be doing a great job at keeping it secret. Really wonderful.

She sighed, until she spotted on a small silhouette on one island outside of Sindria's wall. And when she checked, she dived in, feeling the wind on her wind. She arrived, stood on earth and spotted her husband, standing close to the water. She didn't know how much time already passed, but she was sure that Raziel was already here.

She unequipped herself once again and sighed deeply, the use of her magoi shooting a bad headache through her temples. Oh, he'd so pay for that.

* * *

"Lady Raziel of the Fanalis!"

The guards were standing on both sides and the vizier could already see the uneasiness on the young woman's face. Her short hair, which merely reached her chin, has been bound back in a ponytail and she shouldered her traveling bag. He recognized her household vessel, the anklets on both her feet. When he saw into her red eyes, she looked confused. "Good evening."

He bowed shortly. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Raziel."

"Likewise." He led her through the great entrance and through the corridors. "I hope the journey has been well?"

"Thank you, it was nice." She rolled her shoulders. "Sir Ja'far, where is Layla? It sounded like she'd be happy to see me in her last letter."

"She has..." He sighed. "She has a little fight with our king and is momentarily searching for him. She asked me to welcome you in her stead if she hasn't returned yet."

"Is it about his womanizer tendencies?"

If a woman like Raziel was even able to say something about this, then everyone could be assured that it has reached a horrible point. The young Fanalis is the only one of Layla's household vessels who doesn't visit on a regular basis, but prefers the life of being a mercenary and fulfilling her life as independent warrior. The last time she visited was even before the attack on Sindria by Judal.

A shiver ran down Ja'far's spine when he thought about the losses.

"I'm afraid so."

"He seemed to have reached a very unfavorable point in time."

The white-haired man looked over his shoulder at the young lady. "Isn't this always the wrong moment?"

Suddenly, she stood still and looked at him with these strange eyes of hers that he could never get used to. "Wait, you don't know?"

He knows a lot. He is the right-hand-man of Sindria's king and a very dear friend of his lover. It was natural for him to be adept in their secrets and Layla often asked about his opinion. A diplomatic talk? Before the monarch reached Sindria, she took him aside and asked him what would be best. And he asked truthfully and diplomatic, just like everyone would do in their position.

But this?

"I might remember if you tell me."

She lifted her eyebrows. She sighed quietly. "You've never heard this from me." She reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of parchment – from the writing he could identify it as the Yambala's handwriting. "Layla is thinking about getting married."

Okay, that was one thing he didn't know about. And he couldn't say it was something he wasn't curious about.

From his face, she seemed to have hit something he didn't know. "Oh, so you didn't know?" She put the letter back into her bag and closed it. She resumed walking. "You've never heard anything from me."

And he didn't. His lips were sealed. He led her to her room, sent someone to bring her something to eat and promised to tell her as soon as Layla returned. And then he assembled the generals together.

"Hah, pay up, Sharrkan! I knew it!"

They were ecstatic. And the bet has finally been reached.

While Sharrkan passed the coins to Pisti, Yamuraiha looked at him with bright eyes. "Is it true? Really true?"

"According to Raziel, yes." He hid his hands in his sleeves. "It seemed like she has been contacting Danyal and Hosoya to ask about their opinion and they both told her that it's getting time."

"Damn straight it is. For howlong have they been together?"

"Nearly ten years, I think?"

"When I think about what I've did in ten years..."

"We don't want to know, Hinahoho!"

"And why is Raziel here?" The magician put the topic back at hand.

"In her last letter, she asked her for her opinion about the topic. And since he has been in Balbadd during the last weeks, she decided to take the ship and talk to her in person about this."

"And what is her opinion?"

"She also votes for the marriage. It seemed like she has also been waiting for this day to come. She said: ' _Since the moment I've seen them together, I knew that they were going to kick the bucket together.'"_

Pisiti piqued up. "That sounds really like Raziel."

"And don't forget that she has a great instinct. Damn, I knew I should have made another bet!"

"Bad luck, Sharrkan!"

But her laughter died suddenly, when she looked at him. "But they are fighting now? What if-"

"What if they get separated this evening?"

"Even if they play with that thought, we'll be hindering this. Look how high the stakes are."

Five of them were eager to follow this plan. Masrur looked at them without saying a word, just listening quietly. Ja'far would listen to the majorities voice. But then, Spartos spoke up. "Are you sure we should do that? I mean, it's none of our business."

"This is a misunderstanding, Spartos!" Pisti spoke full of passion. "Sin would never do that, and we all know that. He may try to go after every woman when he's drunk, but Layla was always the last thing to stop him. And she's still here. Nothing happened, I'm sure of it!"

Finally, he shrugged. "Okay, I'm in."

"You're also in, Masrur, right?"

The Fanalis gave a nod as answer.

"Okay, then we all agree." He leaned forward. "This is the plan..."

* * *

"Sinbad." The name indicated something powerful; connected to the high king of the seven seas. Who is, besides being called Sin and Sinbad the sailor, also the bearer of the title 'Lady killer of the seven seas'.

She stepped closer to him, holding her hair in place due to the harsher winds that started to come. Her eyes were set upon his figure, standing closely to the edge. "Sinbad," she called again.

He looked back at her and despite everything that happened during the last three hours, he looked marvelous. During the last couple of years, she liked to disappoint all the young women who had their eyes on him, but their reaction as soon as she reached his side and intervened their fingers, it was always something that could make her heart beat faster. And she realized it right in that moment.

May the sea curse her, did she love that man.

He looked at her in a slight distance, unsure of how to proceed – she knew about the change he had to go through and she accepted it (since he accepted all her bad sides too). Layla felt the gears running in his head, trying to find out the best way to sooth their fight. She'd let him.

After all, she had to say something this evening as well.

"Why did you run away?"

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, tucking a stand of her hair behind her ear. She felt the hem of her dress flutter in the wind. "Tell me, Sin."

He averted his eyes, until he reconsidered and looked at her. "I don't know."

Did he lie? He didn't know what to do while dealing with a woman? Did Sindria just get affected by snow storms?

"Sinbad, tell me." She covered the distance and stood close to him, following look and kept her watch over the sea, while it clashed against the riff. "What is it?"

"The woman who accused me is lying. I've never acted on her."

She sighed. "I know that."

"And-" He halted. "Wait you know that?"

She shot him an impish smile. "I trust you, Sinbad, I really do." She linked her arms together and put her head on his shoulder. "But if this keeps happening, be assured that I'm going to get really mad at you. I hope you know that."

His pause irritated her and she looked at his baffled face. A snort escaped her lips and she pressed her hand against her mouth. But the laughing didn't stop, it got even louder.

"Stop laughing!"

"Then stop looking like that." She shook her head and breathed in deeply. "You know, while I was searching for you, I've thought that your escape from this situation is like a confession that you really did act on that woman. But when I'm looking at you, I know you speak the truth." She scratched her head. "I'm sorry for overreacting like this. It wasn't the right thing."

"It's alright."

This was the most peaceful way to conclude the problem she has ever seen.

"Hey, Sinbad?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

Surprise dominated his features and he titled his head. "What is it?"

"Do..." She shook her head, breathed deeply in and out and suddenly, she could only imagine what he had to feel on that fateful evening four years ago. Her hands started to shake and cold sweat began to form on her forehead. "Do you remember that one question you asked me, years ago? The one where I had to put you off because I haven't been able to answer it properly?"

Seconds passed and she bit her bottom lip, and the second it dawned on him, her heart skipped a beat. "Yes, I do remember."

"Well, since four years have passed since you asked me this, I want to give you my answer." Lacing her fingers together and holding them in front of her body, she deeply breathed in and exhaled. "My answer is yes, gladly."

Those seconds felt like eternities. Did she already die once in that time span?

What if he changed his mind and she waited too long to tell him her answer? What if he really did find this older woman attractive and he wanted to ditch her? What if-

"Thank god, I've thought you'd never say yes."

He lifted her and spun her around, she felt her eyes tearing up from the wind and her hair flutter. But this moment was perfect. She actually wanted to tell him during a Maharjan and surprise everyone around, but they were in private, they were together and that was all that mattered.

And even when she felt a cold splash of water in her face and all the air escaped her lungs, while they fell into the ocean, she couldn't stop grinning like an idiot. And while they were underwater, she grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him close to her, crashing her lips against his and giving him all the air that he needed.

He was her lifeline. And she could never have dreamed about something better.

* * *

"They've been gone for quiet some time now." Yamuraiha tipped with her foot on the floor, her arms covered in front of her gracious covered chest. "What if the worst case really did happen? And they decided to go separate ways now."

"Stop making the worst assumptions, Yamu!" The princess of Artemya pointed her finger at the magician. "There is nothing wrong, Yamu! Keep believing in them!"

"Especially in her." Hinahoho nodded quietly. "The relationship is at her mercy now. If she decided to drop it, then there is less that Sinbad will be able to do."

"You are right about that. But, she also has to trust her. If he states that nothing happened, then she has to put her trust in him and believe it."

"Do you think that this is the right thing? I mean, what if those complaints continue showing up? He flirts with too many women and give them hopes and they will start complaining about it."

"Okay, stop this." Once again, the youngest of the generals put her hands on her hips. "I will say this once and never again: if these two will be separated, then I will lose every kind of belief in that emotion called 'love'."

And all the generals who originally had said something about this remained quiet.

"Well, it is true." Spartos rose his head and looked into the round. "Layla is the only one who is able to keep the king in his lines. She is so scary that even a dungeon conqueror who has seven djinns will retreat if she lets out her fury."

"They are a match." Ja'far agreed, when the door opened. Hope sprouted in their minds, but were disappointed, when they've set their eyes upon Layla's household vessel. The young fanalis looked around, curious. "I was told that you are all here." She closed the door behind her and took a seat besides Masrur, who nodded to her as a greeting. "What is happening here? Is it still about Layla and Sir Sinbad?"

"They aren't back yet." Masrur replied, but Drakon took over the talking. "Tell us, Raziel, what do you think about your king and Layla?"

"About these two?" The young lady shrugged. "They are a good match. They respect each other and tolerate each others bad sides. And that is more than you can ask for in most relationships. They trust each other and besides, Layla is the only woman I know who is able to teach Sir Sinbad some respect if he goes his way."

A statement made by Raziel. Something they could trust.

"They are amazing, aren't they?" Hinahoho spoke quietly, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "How they both grew as people and warriors. I think you are right, Raziel: if someone is a match, then it's the two of them."

"I can't even imagine the one being without the other."

"I think Sin would be even worse and actually hit on woman twice his age."

"Spartos, stop saying such things!"

And then, finally, a little cry escaped from the magician's mouth. "I can see them, I can see them!"

Everyone, expect the two Fanalis, raced to the window and looked outside. And it was a fact, that they both just landed safely on earth and were unequipping their djinns. All seven tried to read some emotion in their faces, but there was nothing. Both looked around stoically. When a servant chose to approach them, Layla asked him about something and replied to her. Her expression remained serious, but they saw from their lips that she was thanking him. Together, they entered the palace.

"This is not good."

"Thank you for this obvious statement."

"This is so not good." Ja'far followed the two of them until they were out of sight. "We have to do our very best to keep this thing right. As soon as they are gone, we'll act according to plan."

He got six nods as response.

A knock echoed through the room. The door was opened and Layla stood in the door frame, her green eyes lacked the usual warmth. Not good. "Raziel," she spoke and directed the attention to the young fanalis lady. "I'm sorry for not welcoming you."

Everyone else seemed forgotten AND ignored.

The red haired lady rose and stood in front of the young lady. "It's no problem, Layla. Ja'far has welcomed me."

"That's good." She nodded once, the tension rising to a nearly unbearable level. "Would you mind coming with me for now? I'd like to catch up with you. We haven't seen each other for years."

"As you wish, Layla."

Standing next to her and putting a hand on her shoulder, she directed her outside the room. "Don't be so formal with me. I've asked a servant to bring as some wine and then we will have all the time to catch up."

They both left the room behind and with that, eight faces who couldn't really believe what just happened.

"Oh god, they really broke up!"

Ja'far grabbed his head. "This is a catastrophe!"

"Okay, now it's official, I'm never going to believe in love again."

Three voices answered Pisti: "Same."

"But it makes sense, doesn't it." Drakon crossed his arms in front of his chest. "They disappeared for hours, she doesn't talk to us, they were serious..."

"Okay, this is the end of the world, I give up."

"We have to do something!"

"Then what do you propose we do?"

To this question, Yamuraiha had no real answer.

"Okay, I will go to Sinbad and talk to him, trying to find out what happened. Masrur and Pisti, you will go to Layla."

"Why me?"

"Raziel will be there with her. If the both of you speak to her, you can easily get her support."

"Got it."

"The rest of you will wait. When we have both sides, then we will act."

* * *

"You've seen Scheherazade?"

"It was quiet the sight, Layla. When I visited my family, it seemed like they are actually trying to find a husband for me and promptly invited her and the captain of the Fanalis Corps to our home."

Layla couldn't help herself; she bursted out laughing, covered her mouth. Maybe the wine was a bit too strong. "How is he? This Fanalis?"

"Muu Alexius is quiet the charming man and very kind. He is a half-blood and one of Reim's king vessels. And, I have to admit, he is very handsome to boot."

"Well, that doesn't sound too bad, right?"

The fanalis looked at her with lifted eyebrows. "My lady, please. It will take much more to get me married. I am a mercenary and a quiet good one to boot."

"That's true. But do you even want to get married?"

"As adopted daughter of a noble, it is my duty to get a husband and give birth. And I'm seventeen, so of course my father is already looking for spouses."

"That doesn't answer my question."

She sighed. "Actually, I'd like to get married. But it has to be someone I care about. But, no matter how kind Sir Alexius is, I barely know him and therefore have no interest in a union of our houses."

"Understandable." Layla took one more sip of her wine and put it on her desk. "So, are there any men out there you have your eyes on?"

Her household vessel titled her head, looking at her suspiciously. "Is there anything you're trying to find out with this question?"

Humming, she swirled her cup of wine. "Not necessarily. Unless you actually want to talk to me about something?"

"This isn't so wrong." Layla was already expecting to hear the juicy information she waited for years, but instead, the got the opposite. "What happened between you and Sir Sinbad?"

Her face hardened, became a stoic mess. "What did you hear?"

"Ja'far told me you had a fight this afternoon and you've wanted to talk to me about your plans."

She sighed. "Well, about these..."

Suddenly, Layla's ears perked up and her attention was cast to the door. "Is someone there...?"

No answer. "That's strange. I could have sworn I heard something." She stood up from her chair, walked to the door and looked outside. But there was nobody. No living soul.

"Maybe the trouble from your fight haunts you?"

"That'd be even more convenient than I actually thought." This time, she kept the door open and returned to her seat. "Well, actually, I've wanted to ask you for your opinion.

"About the topic that you've mentioned in your letter."

"Right." Layla sighed deeply. "Raziel, do you think I've waited too long? I mean, he asked me the question four years ago and I said 'not yet' and I'm really thinking what I should do now."

Since the door was open, both women could hear a vase shatter in the hallway. Angry whispering and a passive voice, that wasn't quiet at all. Layla could feel a vein pop up in her temple. "Of course, why am I not surprised?"

"What is it?"

"The fact that Sharrkan and Masrur are outside my door and trying to spy on me doesn't surprise me at all." She drank the last bit of wine in one gulp and stood up. "I think since they've already heard it, I think I should tell those eight about my decision."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Raziel was on her feet, looking at her with concerned eyes. "I can be your support, if you want to."

"Sit down, Raziel. You've had a long journey. We have all time in the world to discuss it tomorrow."

"As you wish."

As she stepped out of her office and looked from the corner of her eyes, she saw a couple of white strands. Hiding wasn't his greatest territory. But neither was Masrur's.

* * *

"So...nothing happened between the two of you?"

"No, why are you thinking that?"

Ja'far looked at his king in horror. "Then what is with this cold atmosphere between the two of you?"

"We both talked a lot and realized that there are many things we're not able to reduce our plans to a common denominator."

This was even worse than expected. Hopefully Sharrkan and Masrur had more luck than he had.

A knock interrupted them with a sudden force. "Sinbad, it's me, Layla. Can I come in?"

"Sure."

The door opened and from a mile away, he could see the rest of the seven generals, following her. He looked into Layla's green eyes and a seed of suspicion rose in him. Something was wrong and not the thing that he had initially thought.

"What can I do for you, Layla?"

"Do you think we can call the other generals?" Her look held some sort of secret that was only between the two of them.

"Of course. Ja'far?"

"Right away, your majesty."

As soon as possible, he left the two behind and entered the floor. As soon as he reached all seven of them. "Something isn't right."

"We've actually heard something." Sharrkan stood up. "It seemed like we actually could have made the bet already four years ago."

The weight of the statement hung heavy above their heads. "Wait." Drakon chimed in. "You're not saying that they were once thinking about marriage?"

"They have. And the only reason why they didn't do it because Layla said 'not yet'."

Silence. Finally, Pisti asked: "What kind of answer is that?"

"Layla asked Raziel if too much time has passed and that she didn't know what to do."

"This brings a whole new light to it."

"That doesn't matter right now. Our priority is to listen to these two."

"Got it." Seven nods.

All eight of them returned to the office, knocked once and were asked to enter. Sinbad was sitting on his chair, Layla standing at the window. It was cold in the room, unusual for them. They treated each other with respect and warmth and gave everyone the feeling to be welcomed. But this was a whole new level.

"So, everyone is here?"

Drakon closed the door behind them and an icy cold silence hung over the room. Gold and green looked at each other. "Who is going to tell them?"

With a simple gesture, he left her the precedence. With a sigh, Layla stood next to Sinbad and looked at everyone in particular. "Sinbad and I decided that a change is necessary."

Sweat drops were formed on Ja'far's forehead. This was no good start.

"I'm not sure how you are all going to react, since it will be drastic and it will affect the close future. Arrangements have to be done, I have to contact all members of the Alliance in order to tell them, I need to write a letter to the Yamabalas. My father won't be the happiest to know that."

Ja'far looked up into the suddenly softening eyes of Sinbad's lover.

She cleared her throat. Layla began to smile. "Sinbad and I decided to get married."

The smile broke loose on Sinbad's lips and he grabbed her hand.

Silence. One, two, three-

Until hell broke loose. Yamuraiha and Pisti lunged at the future queen of Sindria. "Congratulations!"

"Damn, I've waited for that day."

"But wait. What was-"

"The reason we didn't talk with each other?" A grin spread on Layla's lips. "I was sure that you would be watching us when we came back, so we've had the idea that we're going to use this a little bit to trick you."

"And according to all your baffled faces, it actually worked."

Looking from their king to their future queen, who was still hugged by Pisti, nearly everyone let out a groan. "Seems like you tricked us all pretty good."

* * *

And as soon as they announced their engagement during the next Maharajan festival, they heard the people cry and whistle. And Layla knew that this was the moment she ever dreamed about.

And while they were cheering, an impish look crossed her eyes. She grabbed the necklace around her fiance's neck, pulled him close to her and sealed the blessing of Sindria's people with a kiss.

* * *

Okay, this turned out way different than I originally imagined. Normally this whole trick thing was originally not my intention, but it slowly built itself and so it

happened. Well, the proposal's done. I hope you liked it.

The next one will be the announcement of their relationship in front of the Yambala's.

These are the choices for **chapter 10** :

1\. Interactions between Layla and the generals on the first Maharjan

2\. Layla meets Aladdin and co.

3\. Sinbad and Layla after Judal's attack on Sindria.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'm always open for new suggestions from your side. Reviews and critic is always appreciated.

Thank you for reading and till next time.


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